These Grim Bones
by sovinnai
Summary: Sirius Black is freed from Azkaban after a month's imprisonment only to find that the Wizarding World thinks him guilty. DMLE Hit Witch Amelia Bones is ordered by Fudge to find a reason or make one to bring Sirius back to Azkaban, and is torn between her orders and her honor, while Albus Dumbledore tries to figure out where he went wrong and why Sirius betrayed his friends.
1. For Lily's Sake

**Don't worry. I am still working on Harry and Millie. In fact, I am about halfway through the next chapter. However, I just read a fic called ****Black and Bones: A Love Story****, by Jenni Rose which intrigued me a lot. Some of the parts of it I didn't like that much, but the basic idea behind the story was very interesting and, as far as I can tell, unique, so I thought I'd try to make a similar one. The basic idea and many of the smaller ones behind the story are not mine, but the specific plot is. Her story started out when Harry first goes to Hogwarts, while mine starts right at the beginning, 25 nights after the Potters' death. ****So, in a lot of ways my story could almost be a prequel to hers, at least as far as I know right now. However, I think I'm going to change some things, so really it won't be much the same by the time Harry goes to Hogwarts. I don't even know if I'll get that far, anyway.****I just couldn't get the scenes of this out of my head, unfortunately, so here we go.**

**Oh, and sorry about the Snape/Lily angst at the beginning. I kind of like that, and it seemed an interesting way to give a reason for Sirius to leave prison, so sorry. Snape may act a little out of character right then, but it is right after Lily died, while the Snape we know has had 10 years of bitterness and self-hate.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own nor ever had or will own Harry Potter.**

**Here we go, hope you enjoy:**

Severus Snape stared blearily into the depths of the glass before him. The Firewhiskey floating inside moved in patterns as he watched, uncaring of all around him. He was drunk, he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

_She_ was dead. His best friend…his only friend. He had accepted years ago that he wasn't good enough for their friendship, but now she was dead, and it was all his fault. He mumbled a curse under his breath and slammed his knee into the table.

He normally wouldn't have lost control so badly, wouldn't even think of drinking this much, but in this circumstance it was all he could do to not just kill himself then and there. At least he would see Lily again, even if that damned Potter would be with her too. Even if it was only at a distance, he wanted to see her red hair and her brilliant smile again.

But Dumbledore had convinced him not to. Dumbledore, he thought angrily. The old man had promised to keep her safe, and he had failed. Severus still was not sure exactly how the Headmaster had managed to keep him from committing suicide, but it was certainly not through respect. No, the most powerful wizard in the world didn't succeed in protecting Lily, and therefore he was worth no respect.

Besides him, the words of Lucius Malfoy interrupted his drunken thoughts. "Can't believe he's gone," he said, still looking surprised. "The Dark Lord…thought he'd live forever."

Severus turned to look at his old friend. No…not really a friend. More of an ally. Malfoy had never known friendship with any one, and picked his acquaintances out of pure self-interest. Still, he was the closest thing to a friend the Potions Master had had since…no he didn't want to think about that…didn't want to think about the day he'd lost Lily forever.

He could still remember her face, when he'd called her a Mudblood. She'd just looked at him, with a hurt look on her face, and left. Severus didn't blame her for hating him, he knew that he was what she'd always been afraid he'd become. And now she was dead, and it was all his fault.

Lucius was still looking at him with a quizzical look on his face, and Severus thought back. Oh…yes, he'd said something about the Dark Lord's fall. Severus muttered a noncommittal grunt of agreement.

"I don't know why he'd gone after the Potters either…weren't much use to anyone. Oh that Mudblood was pretty enough, but still…"

Severus barely restrained himself from killing the other wizard then and there. He strengthened his Occlumency shields, keeping his emotions well inside himself and again let loose a grunt. Lily was more than pretty, she was…had been…beautiful. And now she was dead, and it was all his fault. Severus' thoughts continually returned to that fact, and he knew that it was the truth.

Lucius didn't seem to notice that Severus was showing any emotion, or perhaps he assumed it was about the Dark Lord's death, for he continued. "How the little brat stopped the Dark Lord, I don't know. Wouldn't have thought anyone could."

Severus growled at these words. He wouldn't have thought any son of James Potter could do anything good either. Potter…how he hated the man. He had taken Lily away from him, and he had tortured him all throughout his school years. And now the child…it was the boy's fault that Lily was dead. The prophecy had been about him, and now Lily was dead.

No, Severus thought again, it was his own fault that Lily…beautiful Lily…was dead.

Lucius was still talking on, not realizing how close he was to making Severus have a full breakdown. "I wish I could get my hands on Pettigrew, though."

Severus refocused his thoughts on what Lucius was saying. Malfoy could hold his drink very well, but after only a few Firewhiskeys, Severus' thought processes began to dissolve completely. And there were now over thirty bottles lying on the table. Down the table from the pair, the LeStranges and Barty Crouch Jr. were passed out completely. He hadn't liked the look in their eyes earlier. They looked like they were going to try something stupid.

With effort, Severus again focused on Malfoy. He had been saying something about Pettigrew. "Pettigrew?" he asked, with effort.

Lucius sneered at him. "You never could hold your drink could you?" He then blinked blearily. Even though Malfoy was a heavy drinker, he did not normally have several dozen Firewhiskeys. But this was a special occasion. "Pettigrew led the Dark Lord to his death."

"What?" Snape croaked. Pettigrew had betrayed Lily? He had thought it was Black. "Pettigrew?"

"Oh, that's right, you weren't high enough in the Dark Lord's esteem to know that, were you? I was with the Dark Lord when Pettigrew gave up their location." It was almost funny that Lucius still was trying to expound on his own favor with the Dark Lord, even after the man…no, not really a man…the shade was dead.

"But Black?" Severus' attention was slowly focusing on the man before him.

Lucius sneered even more. "Yes, you would think that, wouldn't you? No, Pettigrew was the Potters' Secret Keeper. Just shows their idiocy."

Severus felt an odd sense of disappointment at the news. He could certainly imagine Black turning on his friends…the arrogant prat had had no sense of remorse for trying to feed him to the werewolf at age sixteen either. But Pettigrew? Severus could barely imagine Pettigrew getting the courage to disagree with Potter about the color of his robes, much less betray him to the Dark Lord.

"Why in Azkaban?" Severus said, carefully enunciating his words.

Lucius looked at him with his eyebrows raised for a moment, but then sneered. It was his habitual expression after all. "Oh, you mean Black. It's amusing isn't it? He gets thrown in Azkaban without a trial, while we both get off without even a fine."

Severus frowned. There was something pricking at his thoughts, but he couldn't quite recognize the feeling. Before he could ponder it further, Lucius grew bored with the conversation and walked to the other end of the table, where Augustus Rockwood was quietly conversing with Antonin Dolohov. He wondered if those two would be tried anytime soon. Lucius had already managed to get off from his prison sentence through the judicious use of fines given to Millicent Bagnold's assistant Fudge. Severus himself had been freed at the personal request of Albus Dumbledore, although that fact was only known to the Minister besides himself and Dumbledore.

But Severus had only been freed because he spied for Dumbledore, and now all of the old man's assurances were proven moot. Lily was dead. Severus sighed heavily. No matter what, his thoughts always came to her. He picked up his glass of Firewhiskey again, and drowned it in one gulp.

He would try to drown his sorrows in alcohol again, as he had done for all of the 25 nights since that awful Halloween. It never fully canceled out his sorrow, but at least it turned it from a consuming pain to just a nagging itch. Severus poured himself yet another glass, and stared into its depths blearily. _She _was dead, and it was all his fault.

* * *

Severus woke the next morning with a pounding headache. He blinked several times, trying to loosen the gum from his eyelids as the sun poured through the windows. He got up slowly, savoring the pain in his head. As long as he had that pain, he didn't think of Lily. Severus shook his head slightly to clear it, ignoring the jolt that shot through his system.

He felt a nagging feeling in the back of his head, but he couldn't remember what it was for. Something important he had heard…but he didn't know what.

Severus went through his morning ritually without thinking. He was turning into a robot, just functioning without really living. He barely noted that fact, but he just couldn't care about it. He didn't _want _to live in a world without Lily in it. Even if she was with Potter, she should still be alive. She should be smiling, laughing at one of Potter's stupid jokes or feeding her son, not dead. She was dead, and it was his fault. That thought never failed to pass his mind at least thirty times each day. And he knew it was true. It was his fault, and he would never forgive himself for giving the Dark Lord the motivation to go after the Potters.

Not for the first time, he wished that life had been different. He wished that he had Lily by his side, that her firstborn had been a Snape, not a Potter. He shook his head again, pointedly ignoring the pain jolting through his head again. He needn't even care about that, he just wished that she didn't hate him, that she was his friend again, as she had been when they were both nine and hadn't a care in the world besides Petunia's jealousy and some neighborhood boys stealing the swings.

No, even that wasn't necessary. Severus would have done anything to have Lily alive again, even if she did hate him, even if she totally despised him and would as soon curse him as look at him. If she was alive, everything would be better. The world was a better place with Lily in it.

But she wasn't, and Severus felt the pain come crashing down on him again. She was gone, she was dead, and it was all his fault. She had probably died hating him, even if she didn't know that it was he who had given the Dark Lord the prophecy, even if she didn't know that he had caused her death and the death of her husband. He may not have led the Dark Lord to her house, but he still had as good as killed her.

Led the Dark Lord to her house…that was it. Severus suddenly remembered what he had heard the night before. So it was Pettigrew, not Black, who had betrayed Lily? At that moment, Severus felt some sympathy for Black. He _had _managed to kill the bastard who had given Lily up to the Dark Lord, after all.

After a second, Severus realized what he had just thought, and gaped at his reflection in astonishment. Had he really just sympathized with _Black_? The man who had made his seven years at Hogwarts a torture, the one who had nearly fed him to a werewolf? The one who had made Lily hate him?

Severus shook his head. No, Black hadn't made Lily hate him, no matter how awful the man had been. It was Severus himself who had made Lily hate him, and for a good reason. _He_ hated himself, and didn't blame Lily for the same at all.

He had been an idiot, joining the Death Eaters, thinking that somehow they would give him power, allow him to make people respect him. They had been his only friends besides Lily, and it had all given him such a good feeling.

But that feeling was empty, and Lily was dead. Nothing would bring her back. He was exactly the person that Lily thought him, nothing more than a Death Eater.

He suddenly wished he could hear Lily's laugh again. Severus could remember exactly when the last time he had heard that sound had been. He had been in Diagon Alley, buying potions supplies from the Apothecaries. This had been only a few months out of school, when he had first begun working for the Dark Lord. He had come out of the store, and seen her. Lily had been walking down the street with Potter and Black, talking. She had been married a week or so before, and when he had seen her with Potter, he had felt a burst of anger and jealousy. But then Black had said something in her ear, and she had laughed.

It had sounded like sunlight on a rainy day, like a river rushing down its path. When he had heard that laugh, Severus could no longer make himself be angry. It brought him back to the days of their youth, when she had been his best friend and nothing could part them. He wished that he could hear it again, even if it was Potter and Black who made her laugh like that, and not him.

_Black_, he thought angrily. _Why do my thoughts keep coming back to you_?

The voice that was Lily whispered in the back of his head, _because you know that I would want you to help him._

_But he tortured me, Lily,_ Severus thought, in anguish. _Him and Potter. He tried to kill me!_

_But he was my friend, _the sweet voice sounded in his head, _and he is innocent._

_But I don't want him free,_ Severus thought angrily, _I want him to suffer._

_Oh, Sev,_ the voice sounded sad, _you can't carry your anger with you all the time. You have to let go sometime._

_But I don't want to! _He all but screamed.

But the voice did not answer. Severus swore, aloud this time. He knew that he would eventually end up helping Black. He didn't want to disappoint Lily, even if she was dead and it was only a voice in his head. He kicked at a nearby chair, and walked to the Floo.

"Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts," he shouted, and stepped into the fireplace.

Severus came out into the headmaster's office, and spun on his feet a little. Apparently Flooing while half drunk and hungover was not a good idea.

"Ah, Severus," the Headmaster said kindly, his eyes twinkling, "What can I do for you."

Severus' anger at the headmaster rose again. The last time he had been in this office, he had ended up yelling at the old man. He felt the impulse again, as he looked at the man who could not save Lily.

He consciously controlled his anger and related what he had heard from Malfoy to the old wizard.

Dumbledore looked at him curiously. "You say you heard this related to you by Lucius Malfoy? What makes you think that he was telling the truth?"

Severus replied, "Malfoy was angry at Pettigrew. He believed that Pettigrew led the Dark Lord to his death."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "Ah, a very interesting story, I am sure. But Severus, you must think about who this is coming from. What better way to test your loyalty and attempt to free Voldemort's most trusted servant at the same time?"

Severus was in disbelief, so much so that he barely flinched at the Dark Lord's name. "You think that he was trying to test me? Why would he? As far as he is concerned, the Dark Lord is dead."

"Severus, I think that you must learn to say Voldemort's name. As I have found myself saying far too many times, fear of the name merely increases fear of the thing itself."

"What about Black?" Severus snarled, angry at the Headmaster's still twinkling eyes. He hated Black himself, but he had no doubt that he was innocent. It just matched up far too well to be anything but the truth.

"Sirius Black was without a doubt the Secret Keeper for the Potters. They told me so themselves several days before they cast the Fidelius Charm. And I have no doubt that Lucius Malfoy believes that his Master will return, or thinks to set himself up as the next Dark Lord himself."

Severus gaped at the Headmaster. "Headmaster, I know for a fact that Malfoy only thinks of saving his own skin, not waiting for the Dark Lord to return. And taking power himself? Malfoy is a coward who barely had courage enough to take on the Prewetts, even with fifteen Death Eaters behind him. And for Black, much as I hate him, this seems exactly the sort of thing he would do. Potter always did have far too much faith in his friends. He could have easily made Pettigrew the Secret Keeper and pretend that it was Black."

Dumbledore replied, "I do not know what goes on inside the head of those such as Lucius Malfoy, but I am sure that he has the ambition to try if he could. And although I do confess the plot you relate is something that James and Lily would do, I am sure that they would have told me if they had cast the Fidelius Charm using Black as their Secret Keeper instead of Peter Pettigrew. Sirius Black killed Peter and thirteen Muggles with one curse, just as Peter tried to avenge his friends. Those are not the actions of an innocent man."

Severus could feel his resolve weakening. The Headmaster's arguments did seem to make sense. Perhaps Malfoy was just lying to test his loyalty. But then Severus thought of Black making Lily laugh in Diagon Alley. Vicious he may have been, but Black was certainly loyal.

On a hunch, Severus suddenly strengthened his Occlumency shields. A feeling of pressure that he had not even noticed suddenly relaxed. It was all he could do to not stare at the Headmaster. Had the old man been purposely trying to control him? Or had it been something else?

"Are you well, Severus?" Dumbledore asked kindly. "I understand how hard the past month has been for you. Perhaps a Calming Draught?

"No thank you Headmaster," Severus said hastily. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

"Not at all, Severus. Never hesitate to come find me. I'm always happy to help." The twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes strengthened.

Just before Severus left, he remembered another thing from his night at Malfoy Manor. "I noticed one other thing, Headmaster. Rudolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange and Bart Crouch Jr. are plotting something, I believe. They were hit most heavily by the Dark Lord's fall."

"Thank you, Severus. I will inform the Order that we cannot be complacent."

Severus bid his goodbyes, and left Dumbledore's office with a sense of relief. He stumbled to the Floo and came out back in his rented room in Knockturn Alley.

_What had just happened? _Severus knew that the Headmaster was powerful, but he had never _felt_ the power in such a way before. He had felt that with the Dark Lord often enough, but he had always felt normal with Dumbledore. Was it just an effect of being so powerful?

Severus shook his head quickly. It didn't matter. If he wanted to keep his promise to Lily, his Lily, he had to find another way. He quickly ran through possible contacts in his head. None of the Order would help, not without Dumbledore's agreement. Same with all of the Hogwarts staff, except maybe Filch, and the Squib wouldn't be much use, even if he was willing. No Death Eaters would be willing to help, even the ones who thought that Black had been the Dark Lord's right hand man.

Perhaps Andromeda Tonks? Well, she would be willing to help, probably, but Severus barely knew her and she didn't have much influence. Influence…influence…Ah. Black's mother, Walburga Black. She was well known to be an old fashioned blood-purist, very old fashioned. And she was rolling in lucre.

If he went to her and told her that Black had been helping the Dark Lord, she would probably fall over herself in trying to get her son a trial. Of course, with a mother like that, Severus was not surprised that Black had turned out the arrogant and vicious man that he was.

* * *

Walburga Black strode through the darkened corridors of the Ministry of the Magic with a sure step. Above her she could hear people still celebrating in the atrium for the Dark Lord's death. Fools! They should have realized that the Dark Lord had been the best chance to protect the wizarding world from the inflow of Mudbloods and Half-breeds and werewolves and all kinds of scum.

It was really a pity that he fell. Oh well, the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black would continue on, as it always did. Always Pure. That was the family motto, and it had been lived by for well-nigh on seven centuries.

Walburga smiled, in a frightening sort of way. She was very glad that her eldest son had not turned out to be quite the disappointment she had thought he was. She had been utterly shocked when he had become a Gryffindor, and was friends with the son of Charlus Potter, her husband's bitter political enemy. But now she had found out from that most respectful Snape boy that he had actually been working for the Dark Lord after all.

Perhaps her lectures and punishments to him as a child had not been in vain after all. That was most pleasing to her. It was really a shame that Regulus had backed out at the last moment. She couldn't blame him, of course. Even the Dark Lord shouldn't think that a Black would resort to such…distasteful actions. Not that she cared about the Mudbloods on whom those acts were committed, of course. But a Black shouldn't stoop to such levels. Mudbloods were not worth dirtying their hands for. Still, Regulus should have realized that the Dark Lord was unforgiving. She had thought she had raised him to be smarter than that.

Regardless, the Black family name had been redeemed. She was glad that Sirius had finally remembered where his loyalties lay. Now it was only left to her to get him out of jail. The nerve of those Aurors. Putting a Black in Azkaban! She would soon take care of that.

Walburga turned at the end of the hall, making her way to the office of the Special Undersecretary to the Minister, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge…now there was a man who knew how things worked in the world. It was not up to fools like Albus Dumbledore or that infuriating Bartemius Crouch to decide to place a Black in Azkaban. No, with a little persuasion, Fudge would surely see reason.

And as the Snape boy had told her, he had brewed an antidote to Veritaserum, so it would be less costly to clear Sirius of charges than otherwise. All she had to do was convince Fudge to give her son a trial, and he would soon be freed.

The Snape boy…it was really a pity that he was only a half-blood. He was such an intelligent boy, and he understood the way the world moved. And he was a Prince by his mother's side, one of the purer families remaining in Britain. If he had been a pureblood, and if there had been any remaining Black women unmarried, he would have made a satisfactory match.

Walburga shook her head to clear it from those superfluous thoughts as she knocked on Fudge's door. It was time to free her son from Azkaban.

* * *

Sirius Black lay curled up in the corner of his cell, whimpering. He could feel the ever present chill of the Dementors through the cell wall. Memories whipped through his mind, torturing him.

_James and Lily sat on their living room couch, talking quietly. As Sirius walked in the room, they looked up. "Hey, Padfoot." James said, cheerily. "Come to be our Secret Keeper now?"_

_Sirius responded, "Listen, Prongs. I've been thinking—"_

"_Don't hurt yourself, Padfoot," James said cheekily, "I've heard it's bad for your health."_

_Sirius said, "I'm serious, Prongs."_

"_We know you are," Lily said, a small smile on her face, "It's not like we don't know your name after nine years."_

"_No, really," Sirius said desperately. "I don't think I should be your Secret Keeper."_

_James straightened up to look at him curiously. "Why? Who better than Harry's godfather? You know I think of you as a brother, Padfoot."_

_Sirius sighed. "I know. That's why it shouldn't be me. I'm too obvious. They'll go after me, and I don't know if I'll be able to stand up to You-Know-Who's torture."_

_Lily, her smile gone, responded, "Sirius, I'm sure you'll be safe."_

"_It's not me I'm thinking of," Sirius said, "It's you two and Harry. I don't want to risk your lives."_

"_Then who?" James asked. "I think you're the best choice."_

"_I was thinking Wormtail." Sirius responded. "Who would suspect him?"_

Sirius groaned at the memory. _I killed them,_ he thought, _It's all my fault. Now James and Lily are dead, and Harry…Harry. How could I have abandoned him like that?_

Another memory flashed through his head.

_Sirius strode through the crowd purposefully. Ahead of him he could see the back of a very familiar head of mousy brown hair disappearing into the distance. Sirius wouldn't let that traitor get away. He fingered his wand in his pocket lovingly. The traitor! He should have never convinced Lily and James to switch Secret Keepers._

_He broke into a run as he shoved his way through to the edge of the crowd, moving to the less crowded street that he had seen Peter run into. He accidentally shoved a woman walking by into a wall with his shoulder, but kept running, barking an apology over his shoulder._

_There he went! Sirius drew his wand, looking for the traitor in the crowd. Muggles around him backed away nervously, seeing the tall man with a mad stare on his face and some sort of weapon in his hand, extended outwards. Finally, he could see the traitor fully, who had run into a dead end at the alley, and turned nervously._

_Sirius extended his wand, preparing a spell. Before he could, Pettigrew yelled, "Lily and James! How could you, Sirius?"_

_Dumbfounded by Peter's words, Sirius did not fir. Before he could react, the street exploded around him, and Sirius was thrown to the grown. Dazed, Sirius saw Peter mutter a few words, and his finger dropped off with a squishy sound onto the ground. He could do no more than watch as Peter waved his wand, moving some blood and flesh from the dead Muggles around them onto the spot where he had been standing, and transformed._

_Sirius staggered upright, staring around him madly. There were dead bodies all around, and a small rat was disappearing into the gutter. Sirius raised his wand, but Wormtail had vanished._

_Sirius heard cracks around him, but he could do no more than laugh madly at the awful sight. He faintly realized that he was in hysterics, but barely noticed as Aurors confined him._

Sirius groaned again, shivering as he curled into a tighter ball. He tried repeating under his breath the words, "I'm innocent…I'm innocent." But he just couldn't hold onto that thought. It was his fault. He had killed James and Lily. Maybe not directly, maybe he hadn't handed them over to the Dark Lord himself, but he had as good as killed them.

Suddenly, Sirius felt an odd warmth flow over him as a silver light flowed into his cell. He barely noticed the relaxing of the Dementors' affect as he stared at the silvery white animal that flowed into his cell. It was a ram, an oddly spotted sheep with curled horns and a deeply penetrating gaze. Sirius stared at the ram as it walked calmly into the cell and stood in front of him.

Sirius did not notice that someone had entered his cell until he heard a harsh voice say, "Get up, Black, you're getting a trial."

He turned to see a square-jawed witch staring at him with a challenging gaze. She held herself proudly, with short brown hair and the patch of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on her brown robes.

Sirius staggered to his feet with a grimace. "A trial?" he asked faintly.

"Yes, Black, a trial. Merlin knows why, as we all know you're guilty."

The prisoner staggered to the door. "Harry," he said. "I want to see Harry."

The witch stared at him. "You killed his parents. _You_ are going nowhere near Harry Potter."

"He's my godson. I need to make sure he's all right."

"You are a prisoner. You'll be going right back into this cell as soon as you get reconvicted. You only got a retrial because your mother bribed the Ministry." The witch said that last as if it left a distasteful taste in her mouth. She looked as if she thought bribing the Ministry was a personal offence on herself.

"A retrial?" Sirius asked. "Never had a trial." His vocal chords, strained from long disuse, hurt as he spoke.

The witch stared at him for a long moment. "Nonsense. We gave every Death Eater a trial. Some got off," her mouth twisted again, "because of bribery. But you are going to have a fair trial. No getting off through bribery for you, Black. So don't get your hopes up."

"Didn't have a trial." Sirius insisted, though he didn't know why he cared what this witch thought. "Where… are we going?" he croaked.

"You are going to a Ministry holding cell for tonight. Your trial is scheduled for 10 a.m. on Thursday morning," the witch replied, though she was frowning at Sirius' insistence that he never had a trial.

Sirius walked unsteadily through the cell door with the ram Patronus, barely noticing when the witch followed behind him. He could feel her wand pointed at his back, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The Ministry witch's Patronus led him through the winding corridors of Azkaban. Sirius felt and saw Dementors nearing him and his escort, but every time they drew too close the ram tossed his head threateningly and forced the Dementor to back off.

Finally, after a journey of what seemed like hours, during which Sirius' long unused legs gave out twice, forcing the witch behind him to cast a Lightening Charm, they reached their destination. The witch went to the desk at the Azkaban entry point.

"Hit Wizard Amelia Bones, to bring Sirius Black to the Ministry for a retrial."

The squat, balding wizard who sat behind the desk stared with beady eyes at Sirius and his escort. "Very well. I'm opening Floo number Three." He pointed his wand at one of a row of fireplaces against the wall of the entry point, which burst into flames. "It will only connect to the Floo at the Ministry holding cells."

"Thank you, Johnson," the witch, apparently named Amelia Bones, said.

Sirius barely noted that the ram had disappeared as she walked ahead of Sirius to the fireplace, drawing a pinch of Floo powder from the pouch at her waist and shouting "Ministry holding cells." She pushed Sirius in, and he felt himself fly through the Floo.

He reappeared in a dimly lit room, unadorned with any decorations. Three wizards were sitting in chairs at the other end of the room, apparently in the middle of a game of some sort. When he came through the Floo, they stood and pointed their wands at him, though they did nothing.

When Bones appeared behind him, Sirius let out a slight sigh of relief as the Hit Wizards lowered their wands. She took him none too gently by the arm and led him to the end of the room, where a metal door led to a new hallway. Along this hallway were rows of cells, three of which held people.

At the last cell in the hallway, Bones opened the door at brought Sirius inside. "Now, I'm going to return tomorrow to take you to your trial. In the meantime, I was told to bring this note to you. I don't like it, but it was checked out and no magic signature was detected on the note."

Sirius watched as the older witch vanished down the hall, leaving Sirius alone with an envelope and the feeling of being free from Dementors for the first time in nearly a month.

Sirius opened the envelope carefully. If it was from his mother, it was half-likely to be cursed just for fun, even if the Aurors did check it for any kind of magic.

Two pieces of parchment fell out of the envelope when he opened. He read over quickly and discarded the first one, which was from his mother saying she was proud of him for betraying James and Lily. He growled under his breath as he realized that the only reason he was getting a trial was _because_ his mother thought him guilty.

He did do a double take at the passage in his mother's letter that suggested that Snape was going to provide a counter to Veritaserum. No one had ever made a defence to Veritaserum, and why would Snivellus ever give it to him? No doubt the slimy snake was a Death Eater and thought he was too, else why would he be trying to help him?

When Sirius eyes ran over the second letter, though, his mouth dropped open and all thoughts fled for a few seconds. This letter was from Snivellus himself, and it was nothing like what he would have thought.

_Black, _the letter read,

_I have no liking for you. In fact, I hate you from the bottom of my heart. However, I have found that you are innocent of betraying Lily. I understand that Pettigrew, not you, was the Secret Keeper. _

_I have told your mother that I am brewing an antidote to Veritaserum. That is not true. If you are indeed innocent, then you will be able to clear your name using the Veritaserum. If not, then you will return to your cell and rot in Azkaban for what you did to Lily._

_If you are innocent, then I will tell you that I do not do this for you, or for Potter. I do this for Lily's sake, for the friendship she had with you. She would not have wanted you to be in Azkaban for a crime that you did not commit. I would not care myself, but for Lily's sake._

_Snape._

Sirius stared at the letter open mouthed. _Snivellus_ was the one who had convinced his mother to bribe the Ministry for a trial? Who would have ever thought it?

Despite the questions and thoughts running through his head, Sirius slept more soundly that night than he had during the 27 days since James and Lily died. He would get a trial tomorrow, and he would soon be able to see Prongs Jr.

**Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please read and review. I love constructive criticism, as much or more than encouragement.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. A Trial to Come

**Okay, here's the next chapter of this. I was going to put the trial itself here and its outcome, but it ended up being way too long. Besides most of this chapter is about its leadup, not the trial itself anyway.**

**I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Sorry, I got nothing. As it happens, I'm nearly broke, so I'm obviously not J.K. Rowling, or I'd be rich right now. Don't own anything of hers either.**

When Amelia Bones left Black behind in the Ministry holding cells, the first thing she did was Apparate home to take a shower, to wash off the dirt and grime of Azkaban once more. She sighed. It seemed that every other day for the last month she had been going to Azkaban to remove another former Death Eater from the punishment they so richly deserved.

First it had been Severus Snape. Amelia was still not sure how that particular Death Eater had gotten off without punishment, since, as far as she knew, there were no close friends or relatives who had any significant amount of money. Lucius Malfoy, perhaps, would have used his money to bribe Snape out of Azkaban, but he was still there when Snape had been retrieved.

Next, had been Malfoy himself. That had not been a surprise, of course, but Amelia could wish that the Malfoy fortune wasn't so used. She had spent the last fifteen years in the Hit Wizards, trying to catch criminals, yet corruption still meant that the real bad ones went free while minor criminals like Mundungus Fletcher spent months in Azkaban. Not that Fletcher didn't deserve to be in prison, of course, it was just that Death Eaters like Malfoy and Snape got off free after torturing and killing countless innocents.

Then there had been Karkaroff, Avery, MacNair, and more. They all had steered clear of Azkaban, on trumped up claims of being under the Imperius Curse. Of course, the truth was that they had paid the Ministry off to get them out of Azkaban, or in Karkaroff's case had betrayed his fellow Death Eaters to the Ministry. They deserved to be in Azkaban, without a doubt. Amelia was sure that every one of them had participated in Muggle killings at the very least, and almost certainly the deaths of wizards as well. Perhaps one of them had even been the ones to kill Edgar and his family.

Amelia bit back bile at the thought of her older brother, who had been brutally murdered along with his entire family only the year before. Coming to his house for a Christmas Eve dinner, along with her younger brother and his family, and finding the Dark Mark floating above…that was an experience that she never wanted to have again. The only experience that had left her feeling worse had been the murder of her parents, even if it had been nearly six years earlier. To have her father physically jump in front of the curse meant for her had been the worst feeling possible.

Yet the people who were responsible for all these deaths and others like them were getting out of Axkaban scot-free.

But Black…this one confused Amelia, more than a little. The evidence was clear. Pettigrew, dead; the Muggles, dead; the Potters, dead. Everyone knew that Black had been James Potter's best friend, and, although many would not know this, she had heard that he was Potter's Secret Keeper as well. But the Potters had been killed by You-Know-Who, and Black was found without a scratch on him in the middle of a destroyed street with the bodies of thirteen Muggles and the Potter's other friend Peter Pettigrew lying around him.

But why did he act the way an innocent man would? His first question had been for the son of the man he betrayed. That was not the action of a guilty person. And then he had claimed that he had never had a trial. That had to be untrue, hadn't it? Every suspected Death Eater had been given a trial before being put in Azkaban, even Mulciber, who had been caught three days after You-Know-Who's fall on a rampage through a Muggle town. He had thirty Muggles dead before him and another one under the Cruciatus, but he still had been given a trial.

Surely Black had been given one too?

But Amelia could not remember him ever having been given the trial. She would have thought it would be a media circus, with reporters having a field day. But as far as she could remember, it had never gotten into the _Daily Prophet. _

For some reason, Amelia felt that Black had been telling the truth about not getting a trial. She didn't think he was in fact innocent, as the facts were all against him, but it was entirely possible he had gone straight to Azkaban without the courtesy of a trial before the Wizengamot.

Amelia decided to check, for it never hurt to be sure. After her shower and a quick bite to eat, she strode to the Floo. She said "Harold Bones' House" and stuck her head in the Floo.

After a few moments of her head spinning, she found her vision expanding to include the living room of her brother's house. At the moment, she could see her sister-in-law Catherine holding her daughter in her arms.

"Hello, Catherine. How's Susan?"

Catherine looked over to the fire with a smile. "Amelia! How nice to see you. You must come over for dinner next week, I insist. And Susan's very well, thanks. We thought she got the Dragon Pox a few days ago, but it turned out it was just a case of the cold."

"I might come join you some time, Catherine," Amelia responded. "But work is very busy right now."

"Of course, with all of the Death Eaters you are catching, I'm sure. But really, Harold would love to have you. And Susan always misses her Aunt Amelia."

"Perhaps. Is Harold there? I've a question I'd like to ask him."

"Sure. Harold!" Catherine called. "Amelia's on the Floo for you!"

Amelia's brother hurried into the living room. He had a square jaw much like Amelia's, and short brown hair parted in the middle. "Hey, Amelia. What's new?"

Amelia smiled, but quickly got down to business. "Harold, do you have access to the trial records at the DMLE?"

Harold responded, "Sure. Emily Catlan gave me the key to the records office just last week to get a couple of files for her. Why?"

"I need to know if Sirius Black got a trial."

"Black? Why would you need that? He's obviously guilty."

"Oh, I agree he's probably guilty. But there's the possibility he was sent to Azkaban without a trial, and I'd like to check. Besides, he's getting a retrial tomorrow, and if he was already given a trial I'd like to see the transcripts. I'm the case witch for Black for the trial."

"Sure, Amy. I'll get it for you if you want. But why is Black getting a retrial? Didn't he kill those Muggles in front of witnesses?"

"Don't call me that," Amelia said threateningly. "Anyway, I understand his mother bribed the Undersecretary to the Minister to give him a trial. Old Millicent Bagnold has basically retired. I understand she hasn't gone to work since You-Know-Who fell. Anyway, that's another odd part about this whole business. With Malfoy and MacNair, I heard some whisperings about bribes even before they were freed on a technicality. But with Black, I _only_ hear about a trial, not any form of rigging. In fact, I understand Black's mother insisted on Veritaserum."

"But that sounds like he might actually be innocent," exclaimed Harold. "If they're willing to use Veritaserum."

"Sure," responded Amelia, "but in this case, I wouldn't be too certain. For one thing, there's more evidence against him than against Avery, Malfoy, and all the other freed Death Eaters. For another, if Black was actually innocent I don't think that the old Black hag would want him freed. From what I understand she's a pretty nasty blood-purist who would probably disown her son for supporting us against You-Know-Who. No, if she gives him a trial, then he's probably guilty."

"Huh," responded Harold. "Well that's interesting. I'll get you the trial records tomorrow morning. When does the trial happen?"

"Ten."

"I'll bring you the trial transcripts and any other information I can find on Black by eight tomorrow."

"Thank you, Harold." Amelia said.

As she withdrew her head from the fireplace, she heard Harold respond, "I want you to come to dinner next Friday, Amelia."

The Hit Witch shook her head with a wry smile as she reemerged from the Floo. Harold was a mid-level worker in the Ministry of Magic, but he never failed to try to entertain guests at all times. 'Networking,' he would say. In Amelia's opinion, he was just trying to keep busy. He had always hated being bored, even as a small child.

* * *

Barnabus Cuffe sat in his office, staring into his cup of tea. The past month or so had been the best of all of his tenure as Editor-In-Chief of the _Daily Prophet_. You-Know-Who was gone now. Covering the Death Eater trials had been incredibly good business, even those like MacNair who had gotten off due to bribes.

He was especially excited about the trial that was said to be coming up in a few weeks, as he had heard from an Auror informant that the Aurors were going to bring in Augustus Rockwood, the Unspeakable, on charges of being a Death Eater. That trial would certainly rake in the Galleons.

Barnabas took a deep sip of his tea. Now that things were returning to normal after nearly ten years of constant terror, the _Daily Prophet_ would be able to recover to the power it had once held. He remembered being a junior correspondent in the days before You-Know-Who's rise. That had been exhilarating! Every story in the wizarding world had to go through the _Daily Prophet_'s offices, and he had been in the middle of it. The _Daily Prophet_'s stories had brought down governments, created officials, and set official policy.

But then You-Know-Who had come, ushering ten years of terror and fear. The _Daily Prophet_ during that time had been unable to exercise the power it once had, as the Death Eaters struck fear in or killed any reporters who dared report against their interests. Barnabas himself had been attacked once, and only saved from death by the pure luck of having been within shouting range of an Auror patrol. That had been in the early days of the war of course, when the Aurors still had some reach, and after that brush with death he had been forced to have some restraint in what he wrote.

But now the You-Know-Who was dead, struck down in his prime by a mere boy. And Barnabas intended to lead the _Daily Prophet_ back to its former place of glory and power.

Barnabas was interrupted from his musings by the approach of a small paper bird, which fluttered in through his office window and was barely saved from immersion in his tea by his hand. He took it, recognizing it as something from a trusted informer, a young man within the Hit Wizards who had always given Barnabas prime information.

He unrolled the paper bird, to read in shaky lettering:

_Sirius Black to get retrial. Trial tomorrow. Bribe by Black's mother. Insists on Veritaserum. _

The letter was short, but its contents made Barnabas sit up in his chair and stare. This information was worth the front page for three issues, at least! Without further ado, he called in his editorial staff and his top writers. Time to get to work.

* * *

At eight on the morning of the trial, Amelia Bones was up and alert. The Black trial was in two hours, and she wanted all the information she could get. It was true that she could not have any say on the outcome of the trial, but for all of her life Amelia had liked knowing as much about a situation as she could, lest she be taken by surprise.

That was truly why she hadn't become an Auror as she once had wished. She still wanted to fight Dark Wizards and help the wizarding world as her father had done, but she just couldn't stand the chaos and fog of war that an Auror had to face every day.

Instead, Amelia had joined the Hit Wizards, and found work catching minor criminals and detaining the dangerous ones, freeing up true Aurors to go out and fight Death Eaters. Amelia was actually a better dueler than most Aurors, but as her father's old friend Alastor Moody had once said, she just didn't have the right mentality for the brutal combat and chaos of an Auror's work.

Amelia Flooed to her brother's house at promptly eight o'clock that morning. She calmly walked out of the Floo, making quite a dignified picture, until she tripped over her niece's rattle. She fell flat on her face in a heap, to the chuckles of her brother and the delighted gurgles of her one year-old niece.

As she picked herself up from the floor, she scowled fiercely at her brother. "What possessed you to put a toy right across the Floo? Surely you realized that somebody would trip over it? What if it had been the Minister calling, or, Merlin forfend, Alastor Moody?"

Harold paled at the thought of the paranoid Auror coming out of the Floo and responding to a perceived attack, but then chuckled again. "Ah, cool down, Amelia. I knew that you would be here at eight exactly, so I put the rattle there on purpose. Nobody else would wake up early to arrive here at the exact strike of eight."

Amelia, still glaring, held out her hand. "Do you have the files I asked for?"

"Loosen up Amelia," Harold said. "There was no harm done, except to your pride. And nobody else was even here."

"That's not the point," Amelia responded in an icy voice, as she advanced on her brother. "The point is that you purposefully tripped me when I couldn't respond."

Harold backed up from his sister's angry face. "Alright, alright, Amy. I'm sorry."

Amelia's face relaxed, and she let loose a tiny smile. "It's always fun to scare you, Harold. I'm glad I still have the older sister glare down right." Harold relaxed, and Catherine let out a light chuckle as she watched her husband and sister-in-law interact. Then Amelia got back to business. "Now, did you find the files for Black's trial?"

Harold frowned. "No, and that's the odd part. I looked all through the files at the Ministry, and I couldn't find a thing. I even got Grant Fugend to look at the classified files of the Wizengamot, and I still couldn't find anything."

"So Black didn't get a trial, after all?" Amelia asked, frowning.

"I'm not sure. Just because I couldn't find the records doesn't mean that he didn't get a trial at all. It's possible the files got misplaced or destroyed since the trial. Or possibly it's classified even above the level of an ordinary member of the Wizengamot."

"Do you really think that?" Amelia asked skeptically.

"No, I don't," Harold admitted. "The timing is all wrong. He was captured only a day after You-Know-Who's fall, and the Wizengamot had trials for nearly a week straight afterwards. There wasn't time to try Black, especially not in a secret trial. Anyway, there should have been some sort of paper trail. The Wizengamot and the Ministry just can't keep something completely secret."

"It just doesn't add up. For one thing, I would have thought that they'd want to make an example of Black. He was the betrayer of the Potters, after all." Amelia said, voicing the thought that she'd had since she returned home from Azkaban the night before.

"Well…" Harold said reluctantly, "I might have an idea about that."

"What?" Amelia said, impatiently. "Why wouldn't they give him a trial?"

"Well, I heard, just rumor you understand, that the Obliviators badly messed up at the crime scene. There were at least 3 Muggles still alive, but the Obliviators missed them, and let them bleed out on the ground. If Black was brought to trial…" Harold trailed off.

"…Then the Obliviators would testify, it might come out, and then the Ministry would look bad. Damn," Amelia swore. She didn't often use profanities, but this was certainly a perfect place for a curse word or two. She hated finding more proof that the Ministry was not the perfect government she wished. "Where'd you hear this?"

"I got it from Emily Catlan down the hall from my office. Her husband's cousin is an Obliviator, and he said that Fudge was tearing strips out of his team. The cousin wasn't completely sure what it was about, but that was the rumor going around," Harold replied.

Amelia couldn't help but smile about her brother's connections. He always had been good with people, and he put his position in the Ministry to good use finding more people to get information from. A Healer could barely sneeze in Saint Mungo's before Harold heard about it in his office in the Ministry. She then thought about the implications of this new information, and winced. "So could this be a ploy by Black's mother to bring down the Ministry?"

"Possibly." Harold thought about it for a few minutes. "I heard the rumor about Black's mother giving the bribe when I went in to work this morning. You were right; it is odd that there wasn't any mention of rigging for the outcome of the trial. The Blacks certainly have enough money to buy him out of jail. If Walburga Black really wanted her son to get out of Azkaban and go free, she would have been able to create a farce trial with no actual deliberations. Instead she's insisting on Veritaserum for her son."

"So you think she's going to use her son to expose the incompetence of the Obliviators?"

"And make the Minister look bad, yeah. Maybe she has another candidate in mind, or possibly she's going to put her support behind a real bad blood-supremacist like Lucius Malfoy."

"That wouldn't work, would it?" Amelia exclaimed in horror. "Could the Black and Malfoy fortunes combined get Malfoy into power?"

"I don't think so. They would still need more votes on the Wizengamot, and Dumbledore probably has enough of a voting bloc to keep Malfoy out of office," Harold responded.

"Well that's good. But that still leaves us with the question about Black's trial," Amelia said. "Well, I don't think that—"

She was interrupted by Catherine reentering the living room. "Amelia, Harold," she called. "I think you'll want to take a look at this."

She was bearing a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, which had presumably just arrived. On the cover there was a picture of a mad looking man laughing maniacally. As they watched, the man in the picture was bound by the wand of another wizard, one whose body was outside of the frame of the picture.

**Black to Get Retrial!**

_Ministry of Magic—LONDON. Yesterday evening, noted criminal Sirius Black was removed from Azkaban prison and brought to a holding cell in the basement of the Ministry of Magic. Sources say that Black is scheduled for a retrial, to take place today at ten o'clock at the Ministry courtrooms. He will be brought before the full Wizengamot for a reprisal of the charges brought against him a month ago, a few days after the fall of You-Know-Who._

_Black was arrested in Muggle London within 12 hours of the deaths of the Potters and the destruction of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named by the Boy-Who-Lived. Ministry Obliviators and Aurors under the command of Cornelius Fudge took custody of Black in the midst of a massacre. 13 Muggles and Peter Pettigrew lay dead on the street, as a madly laughing Black (see picture above) was brought to the Ministry for their deaths. He was charged with Muggle-Baiting and Murder, and sentenced to life in Azkaban._

_Yesterday, however, Black's mother, Walburga Black, a noted Blood-supremacist whose husband was arrested twice for Muggle-Baiting, arrived at the Ministry of Magic. What she did while within the confines of the Ministry is unknown, but within an hour of her departure late yesterday evening, Black was released from his cell in Azkaban._

_The Daily Prophet refuses to speculate on the nature of Lady Black's interactions with the Ministry, but can only conclude that her actions directly led to the decision to retry Black. _

_For a detailed explanation of Black's crime, see p. 2._

_For details on the Black family, see p. 4._

_For an analysis on the laws for Muggle-Baiting as applied to the case, see p. 8._

For the second time that day, Amelia Bones swore. "Damn. The trial's going to be a media circus. And how did the _Daily Prophet_ get a hold of this so fast?"

Harold read over the article once more. "Worse, how's the public going to react to this?"

* * *

In countless homes around the wizarding world, the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_ fluttered in through the window on the legs of owls. The first thing these wizards and witches saw was the face of Sirius Black laughing madly at them while bodies lay dead in the distance.

Alice Longbottom had been drinking her morning coffee in her safe house in Kent when the owl rapped on her window. She had not been having a good day. She had barely been taken out of hiding upon the deaths of her friends the Potters when Dumbledore had told her and her husband to return under the Fidelius again. Apparently the Order's spy, that creepy Snape boy who had been two years younger than her at Hogwarts, had heard that the Lestranges were looking for revenge.

Then only this morning Neville, their one-year-old son, had decided it would be fun to try and pet a Devil's Snare outside in the greenhouse. How and why Frank had let Neville into his greenhouses, she did not know, but he had barely managed to snatch Neville away before the plant had suffocated him to death.

When the owl landed on her table, she absently gave him seven Knuts for the paper and took another sip of her coffee. Suddenly, she spat out coffee all over the table as she read the article. "Frank!" she called, horrified.

"What is it, dear?" Frank Longbottom called from outside.

"Sirius…" she spluttered. "He's getting another trial."

"What?" Frank said incredulously as he walked through the door, holding Neville under his arm.

"They're retrying Sirius," she repeated, staring at the picture of her former friend.

"What?" Frank shouted, angrily. "After what he did? He betrayed Lily and James!"

"Apparently his mother bribed the Ministry." Alice glared at the paper bitterly. "I always though he hated her. I guess that's just another thing he lied about."

"Well, Dumbledore will take care of this," he growled angrily. "There's no way Black is going to go free after betraying Lily and James to You-Know-Who."

* * *

At that same moment, Minerva McGonagall burst through the doors to Albus Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts.

"Albus!" she shouted desperately. "Have you seen the paper today?"

Dumbledore looked up from his desk, where he was studying a new article in _Transfiguration Weekly_ about the effects of partial transformation on an avian Animagus.

"No, I haven't, Minerva," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "Should I suppose there is something in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning I would be interested in?" He took the proffered paper from his colleague's hand, and before looking down, absently asked, "Would you care for a lemon drop, Minerva?"

McGonagall growled. "Albus, read the first article in the paper. We can't let this happen."

Albus looked to be about to respond in his usual infuriatingly mild manner, when he caught sight of the front page. The twinkle instantly vanished from his eyes, and his face showed a sign of the steel that made the Headmaster of Hogwarts the most respected and most feared man in the Wizarding World. "What time is it now, Minerva?" he asked, calmly.

"It's about 9 right now. Are we going to prevent the trial?" Minerva asked hopefully. The news that one of her Gryffindors had been a spy for You-Know-Who had affected her very badly. The thought that he might get off without punishment made her blood boil.

"We won't be able to prevent the trial," Albus responded. "However, I must gather some influence to ensure that Black won't be freed. Gather the Order if you wouldn't mind, Minerva. I have a few calls to make."

Minerva left hurriedly, drawing her wand and casting a hasty Patronus as she went. As Minerva left, Dumbledore strode to the Floo and called "Snake's Lair." He chuckled bemusedly at the name of Severus' home. Leave it to him to make show his House affiliation in the most ostentatious manner possible.

* * *

The first Severus Snape knew of the success of his plans was the sight of Albus Dumbledore's head in his fireplace looking up at him. Having just gotten up, Severus did not know of the trial and thus had no idea why the Headmaster might have Floo called him so early in the morning.

"Headmaster," Severus said politely, nodding his head at the powerful wizard.

"Ah Severus, I see you are up. Would you mind if I stopped by for a moment?"

"Of course not, Headmaster," Severus said, his mind whirling. What could have happened for Dumbledore to want to visit him? Had the Lestranges carried out their attack? Was there a need for a Potion of some sort? Had the Dark Lord returned? Severus quickly checked his right forearm and breathed a sigh of relief. The Mark was just as pale and faded as it had been for the last 28 days.

When the Headmaster stepped across the threshold of his fireplace, Severus immediately asked "What do you need, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled at him, but Severus noted that the twinkle was absent from his eyes. Something had happened, obviously, something bad. "Well, Severus, I was wondering if you have seen the _Daily Prophet_ this morning?"

"No Headmaster," Severus responded, a sneer on his lips as always. "I have never felt the need to read such trash."

"Well, Severus, I believe that this morning you might find some information that interests you greatly."

Severus took the paper that Dumbledore was holding and looked at it curiously. At the sight of the front page article, Severus felt conflicting emotions. One the one hand, the sight of his childhood tormentor standing there, and the knowledge that he would receive a retrial, filled him with a deep and abiding anger. On the other, he remembered Lily's laugh, and the smile on her face, and felt relieved that his plans had worked.

Severus slammed his Occlumency shields up, pushing his conflicting emotions into the background of his mind and focusing on Dumbledore's face. "As I told you yesterday, Headmaster, I have some belief that Black may be innocent. However, why his mother would try to get him out of Azkaban if he were indeed innocent, I do not know."

"Ah, Severus, you see, it is clear from this new information that Sirius Black is guilty. We already knew that he was the Potters' Secret Keeper, and now we find that his notorious blood supremacist mother wants to get him out of Azkaban."

Severus hid his gratification that Dumbledore did not know of his actions and responded. "That does seem likely, yes, Headmaster."

He had decided not to argue against the Headmaster again until he understood that odd sensation of power he had felt the day before from Dumbledore. Dumbledore had not exuded that power before the Dark Lord fell, as far as he knew. What it was, Severus was not sure, but it seemed to persuade people to agree with Dumbledore. Severus did not know whether it was intentional or not, but until he did he wouldn't argue against the Headmaster.

"I'm glad we are in agreement then, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Now, I'd like to ask you a small favor."

"Yes Headmaster?" Severus asked, cautiously. Was it possible that Dumbledore did know about his talk with Walburga Black?

"I'd like you to bring some Veritaserum for the trial. I am unfortunately not as confident as I would like of the effectiveness of our legal system. I am, however, sure that I can convince the Wizengamot to allow the use of Veritaserum, which would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt Black's guilt."

Severus stifled a sigh of relief and thought amusedly that his plan had worked even better than he could have hoped. "Of course, Headmaster. I have three extra vials of Veritaserum that I brewed for the Malfoy trial."

The Headmaster grimaced slightly. "Ah, yes. Well, I would certainly hope that this trial will go better than the other. Fortunately, there are few ancestral allies of the Blacks left, so the Wizengamot will look more favorably upon a request for the use of Veritaserum. In fact, I will be travelling to the Lord Greengrass and the Lady Marshbanks to try to convince them to support me in this request."

Dumbledore accepted Severus' offered vials, and left through the Floo once more, to marshal his resources and ensure the re-imprisonment of Black.

* * *

As the members of the order gathered to discuss this latest development, and as families throughout the wizarding world received news of Black's retrial, Sirius Black himself was still languishing in a cell in the depths of the Ministry.

He had spent a well-rested night in the holding cell, free at last from the debilitating effects of Dementors, but it did not make up for the month he had spent in Azkaban. When he woke up, he immediately curled in on himself and closed his eyes, expecting the daily visit of a Dementor to make his life a living Hell once more. When it did not come, he opened his eyes slowly, fearing that the events of the night before had only been a dream.

As he opened his eyes, he stared around at his surroundings in wonder. It had not all been a dream, and he was here, in the Ministry holding cells. Sirius laughed a fuller laugh than any he had let loose since that hysterical one as he realized that his best friend, his brother, was dead, and another man whom he had once thought of as a friend had betrayed them both.

The prisoner looked around slowly, to see through the cell bars the witch from the night before striding towards him. What was her name? Oh yes, it was Hit Wizard Amelia Bones.

"Get up, Black. It's time for your trial," the witch said commandingly.

Two Dementors followed closely behind her, and Sirius curled in on himself some more as he felt the awful, cold presence of the Azkaban guards approaching him again. The witch looked at the Dementors with distaste and cast her ram Patronus once more. The ram filled Sirius with warmth again, protecting against the sadness and pain the Dementors filled him with.

"Thank you," he croaked, slowly pulling himself up.

Bones looked at him with nearly as much distaste as she did at the Dementors. "Well, you need to be in good shape for the trial, don't you?"

Sirius nearly collapsed once more as he realized the truth of the statement. He was going to get a trial! In only a few hours, he would be free once more; free to see Harry, Remus, Frank and Alice…even McGonagall would have been a beautiful sight for him at that moment.

Bones did not wait for Sirius to answer, but strode out of the cell once more, her ram Patronus and the pair of Dementors both following Sirius as he followed her. The procession reached the Ministry lifts at the end of the holding cells, and they filed inside. A soothing voice sounded in the confines of the lift as they went up several levels. Finally, the voice said, "Level Ten, Wizengamot Courthouses," and they all filed out of the lift once more.

"Come along, Black," Bones said, leading the way down a long corridor. "You'll be tried in Courtroom Ten."

Sirius followed her willingly, sticking as close to her ram Patronus as possible. His vocal chords still sore from long unused, he nevertheless tried to talk to his escort. "Where is Harry now?" he asked.

He was curious about this point. Probably with the Longbottoms, he thought, or perhaps with Remus, although given his furry little problem, that was improbable at best. Maybe Dumbledore himself had taken his godson?

The witch replied suspiciously, "Why do you want to know, Black? You're the reason he's an orphan now."

Sirius didn't bother contesting that point, as it was true. Even if he hadn't been the one to betray James and Lily to You-Know-Who, he had been the reason they used Wormtail as the Secret Keeper. In his mind, that meant that Bones' comment had been entirely true.

Instead he rasped, "Want to know he's okay."

Bones' expression softened slightly, and then tightened into suspicion once more. "He's away, far from where any Death Eaters like you could get at him."

Sirius barely heard her, and just muttered "oh, that's good," to her comment. He was too preoccupied by the small door in front of him to really listen to her. He was at the Courtroom finally, ready for his trial! He would be free in just a few hours! It seemed almost too good to be true after the events of the month before. He took a deep breath and walked inside, followed by the two Dementors that were his captors.


	3. A Black Trial

**I am really sorry about the time it took to publish this. Real life got in the way something awful, as happens to the best of us from time to time. Between exams, living in Germany for the summer, football, and then returning to school, I didn't have the time, or the mental readiness to finish this chapter off. But my life is now returning to its normal routine, albeit with more work than ever, so we'll see how much I'll be able to do. **

**Thank you all for bearing with me, and I hope you enjoy. Please read and review, **_**especially**_** if you have something to disagree with that you'd like to tell me. Keep it polite, but please do tell me.**

**Disclaimer: Do I even have to say it? I don't own any of this.**

Amelia Bones, her duty to bring the prisoner to court discharged, prepared to walk around Courtroom Ten to the main entrance and take a spot in the visitor's section. She was very curious about the outcome of the trial, which seemed a foregone conclusion based on the facts, but which her instincts told her was far from that simple. She turned on her heels, leaving Black and the Dementors to enter through the prisoner's entrance.

By the time she reached a seat in the crowd and sat down, the trial had already commenced. She could see Black sitting in the central chair in the room, surrounded by chains. Amelia frowned. She didn't think that it was necessary to have the Dementors so close to the prisoner. Whether he was innocent or not didn't really figure into it, but he would barely be able to function with the Azkaban guards so close to him, especially after such a long time in prison.

As Amelia sat, Albus Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was in the middle of a speech. "… only witnesses are dead or Obliviated. So, I conclude, fellow witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, by asking that the prisoner be given Veritaserum, to confirm or deny his story. There is no other option, as any witnesses to the events of the day are gone, and there is no way to prove Sirius Black's claims false, or true for that matter. Thus, the only way to conclude this trial to our satisfaction must be to subject his claims to the Truth Serum, to ensure that he will tell the truth."

Old Madam Grailey, the Court Secretary, intoned, "That motion is in order. All in favor?"

Most of the hands in the courtroom rose, except for a few such as Lady Parkinson and Madam Lackley. Amelia supposed they hoped to get Black acquitted without the need for Veritaserum, and feared for his case if he was forced to take it.

The Court Secretary spoke again. "The motion passes."

Black's few supporters in the courtroom winced at that announcement, though they didn't seem awfully surprised by the outcome. To Amelia's surprise, however, Black, still chained in his chair in the center of the courthouse, smiled a very little bit upon this pronouncement. Why would he smile at that? It meant that Dumbledore had won, didn't it? There would be no debate after Black was given the Truth Serum, he would just be hauled back to Azkaban once more.

Unless…and again it just came down to that. Despite all of the evidence that was there, despite the bodies and the facts, Sirius Black just did not act like a guilty man. Amelia couldn't decide whether he was merely a very good actor, or if he actually was innocent. On the one hand, he acted like he was innocent, but on the other, there was the fact of 13 dead Muggles and the blood and gore of his former friend lying on the street before him. She didn't know what story Black had concocted, but it seems that it would be very hard to explain away all of that evidence. Well, she supposed that it would come down to the Veritaserum now.

Cornelius Fudge, the rotund Undersecretary to the Minister, stood to speak to the court. Amelia briefly rehearsed in her mind what little she knew of the man. He had been an Obliviator for many years, before being named to his post as Undersecretary by Millicent Bagnold just about a year before. He had returned to the Obliviators for a short time in the wake of the disturbances after the fall of You-Know-Who, leading an Obliviator team in the Muggle world. And Harold had mentioned something about Fudge too, something in connection with Black…

Fudge turned to the Wizengamot. "Witches and Warlocks of the Wizengamot, I thank you all for allowing me to speak. I propose that the criminal be only given the change to answer to his innocence or guilt. If he is allowed to speak, he will be able to twist the truth, even if he is given Veritaserum. I think that he only be allowed to answer the charges against him, and no more."

The court stirred at this, and Amelia saw several warlocks whisper to each other in the back of the courtroom. Amelia herself sat up straighter suddenly, remembering what Harold had said that morning. A scandal with the Obliviators…was that why Fudge was insisting on this? If Black didn't get a chance to say anything at all under Veritaserum, then he wouldn't mention anything about the Obliviators and their mistake. Amelia felt anger in her stomach about such blatant corruption. Still, the process was the process, and she couldn't really do anything to fix it.

A majority of the Wizengamot quickly agreed to Fudge's request, though fewer than agreed to Dumbledore's. The request wasn't unreasonable, after all, she supposed. And, those of the Wizengamot who were principled felt no more satisfaction in seeing Death Eaters go free than Amelia did. And those who were not as principled…maybe Fudge had mentioned something to them before the trial. With the appropriate incentives.

Albus Dumbledore himself walked down to the center of the courtroom, carrying a small vial in his hands. When he reached the bottom, he stated, "I will take the Veritaserum myself first, to ensure its purity. Then we will administer it to the defendant and question him as to the truth of his story. Madam Grailey, if you would ask me my name, and then my favorite candy? I will first answer normally, and then try to overcome the Veritaserum for the second question."

He took a slight pull of the vial, and the courthouse watched as his eyes dilated and his expression grew vacant. Madam Grailey asked, "What is your name?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

"What is your favorite candy?"

It was obvious that Dumbledore hesitated at this one, trying very hard to lie. As an extremely powerful wizard, he was able to hold out for nearly ten seconds before he was forced to say, "Lemon drops."

A few chuckles rang out through the courthouse, including one, surprisingly enough, from the prisoner. Madam Grailey thanked the Chief Warlock and said, "The Veritaserum is confirmed as untainted. Please administer it to the prisoner."

Albus Dumbledore did so, and the courthouse watched again as this time it was Black's eyes that dilated and Black's expression that grew vacant and absent. Amelia paid special attention to his words, hoping to find out what the story he had given was.

Dumbledore began questioning him. "What is your name?"

"Sirius Black."

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?"

"No." There were startled looks throughout the courtroom at these words, and Dumbledore himself looked taken aback.

"Did you kill the Muggles that were present at your capture?"

"No." Several Wizengamot members began whispering to each other frantically.

Desperately, Dumbledore asked another question. "Did you betray the Potter's Fidelius Charm to Voldemort.

Many of the Wizengamot looked startled at this question, although Amelia just nodded at the confirmation of her suspicions.

"No."

Amelia was slightly startled again at this point. What did this mean? Was Black somehow able to get around the Truth Serum? Or was he actually telling the truth? If he was telling the truth, then how had You-Know-Who managed to get past the Fidelius? It was supposed to be unbreakable. If You-Know-Who could break the Fidelius, who knew what else he could have done had he not been stopped by little Harry Potter. That thought was more frightening than anything else, and Amelia quickly squashed it.

The entire courthouse was staring at Black now, and the Chief Warlock looked completely and utterly bewildered.

"It is obvious that Black has somehow managed to find a way to combat Veritaserum. We must continue the trial. Even if the Veritaserum failed on his one word answers, it will surely force him to tell the truth if he gives the story he claims. Then we will prove his guilt."

Most of the Wizengamot members nodded their heads at his, but old Madam Edgecombe, the oldest witch present at the trial, stood up in protest. "Unacceptable," she called shrilly. "We agreed before you administered the Serum that his testimony was to be taken as truth and that we were only to ask him the truth of the basic charges. Are you going back on the decision of the Wizengamot?"

"My dear Madam," Dumbledore replied, "We cannot hold to that decision. Black has managed to defeat the Veritaserum somehow."

"Are you proposing to set the word of the Wizengamot to naught, Dumbledore?" asked an elderly wizard.

"Of course not. But this is no ordinary case," Dumbledore responded. "We have all the evidence we need to prove the defendant is guilty. He obviously managed to corrupt the Veritaserum in some manner."

More of the Wizengamot were looking outraged now. Lady Parkinson shouted from her seat in the back row, "You yourself, Chief Warlock, said that we could not find the truth without the Veritaserum. Are you suggesting that now that we have administered it we should assume that the evidence is completely true, despite now having proof that the defendant is innocent?"

Dumbledore strove to maintain control. "We cannot let a guilty man go free. The evidence is clear, and Black is guilty."

Another wizard, this one rather short and plump, piped up. "We can all agree that Black is guilty," he said. Lady Parkinson glared at him, but he ignored it. "But that's beside the point. We cannot compromise the sanctity of the Wizengamot's decrees for the sake of one prisoner."

More wizards and witches chimed in. Another shouted, "His crime is minor at best. If it were Treason or a high crime such as that, than you would have a case, but for Muggle-baiting and a single murder? The law mandates barely a few years in Azkaban for that. It is not worth it to abandon years of tradition. A decree by the Wizengamot is inviolable."

Dumbledore was looking weary at this point, as he looked around to see a large majority of the Wizengamot arrayed against him. Amelia looked at Black to see what his reaction to all of this was. To her surprise, however, Black was wearing a slight frown and looking at Dumbledore with an expression of…pain?

Amelia added yet another anomaly to her observations of this odd prisoner. Rather than celebrating that he had almost certainly gotten free, he was disappointed in something. But what?

After a few minutes, the Wizengamot gathered itself and some order was regained. Lady Parkinson quickly called for a vote, as Dumbledore, apparently dazed by the abrupt reversal of fortunes, did not speak.

Around the courtroom, hands rose for the acquittal of Black. Amelia looked around and did a quick mental head count as Madam Grailey wrote down the results. It looked like Black would in fact go free after all, by a fairly significant majority.

Amelia pondered the results of the trial as she waited for them to be announced. Having arrived late, Amelia did not know exactly what Black had claimed to have happened on that day when he had apparently killed Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles. However, it seemed likely that his story would be fairly far-fetched at best.

Yet he had taken the Veritaserum and swore that he had not in fact killed those thirteen Muggles, or Pettigrew, or even betrayed the Potters' Fidelius to You-Know-Who. Amelia had only ever heard of one case where Veritaserum had ever been overcome, and that had been Merlin himself. And he had only been able to refuse to answer, at that. Even Merlin had not been able to answer falsely when administered Veritaserum.

So, unless Black was a wizard with such power as to make Merlin look like a Squib, it seemed that he was in fact innocent. Amelia frowned. She didn't like such uncertainty, and in this case she simply did not know what to think. Well, she was well rid of it. Her responsibility to the prisoner had ended once she brought him to the courthouse, and now he was the concern of someone else. Her sense of duty niggled at her insides a bit, but she ignored it as she left the courtroom when Madam Grailey had finally announced an innocent verdict.

A few minutes later, as Amelia proceeded to the lift in the crowd of ministry workers, she heard a voice shout her name.

"Bones. Bones!"

Amelia turned to see Cornelius Fudge struggling through the crowd towards her, looking agitated. She was faintly surprised he even knew her name, and she was annoyed that he felt it necessary to talk to her.

As he reached her, he said, "Bones, someone pointed you out to me." He was panting slightly from his increased speed trying to catch up to her.

"Undersecretary Fudge," Amelia said respectfully. "What can I do for you?" She carefully concealed her contempt for the man behind a respectful and proper tone.

"Bones, you were the one to escort Black from Azkaban, right?"

Amelia blinked in surprise. "Yes." Why would Fudge care about that? The trial was over, and Black was free.

"Very good." Fudge looked happy at this. "You will be Black's case witch now. Report to Underhill for official reassignment this afternoon. You'll start your duties immediately, of course."

Amelia's jaw dropped. "What?" she asked. "Case witch? But he's innocent."

Fudge smiled at her in a slightly pitying way. "Of course he's not innocent, Bones. As Dumbledore said, he obviously overcame the Veritaserum somehow."

As diplomatically as possible, Amelia responded, "Be that as it may, it doesn't change the fact that he was declared innocent by the majority of the Wizengamot. The DMLE is legally forbidden from assigning anyone to Black."

Fudge smiled cunningly. "Ah, no, as it happens," he said. "I spoke with Dumbledore at length about this subject."

Amelia nearly laughed at the stupidity of the Undersecretary. That idiot really didn't ever think for himself, did he? He just listened to whoever said something that sounded good, usually Dumbledore. She restrained her laugh with some difficulty, however. Laughing in the face of a senior Ministry official would not be good for her career.

"It seems that the _Aurors_ are forbidden from further investigation of a man declared innocent by the Wizengamot," he continued, unaware of Amelia's unflattering perception of him. She did not miss the emphasis on the word Auror. Does that mean… "However, legally the Hit Wizards can assign a wizard or witch to a newly freed prisoner if there should be a reasonable fear that he be in danger after he is freed."

Then the significance of Fudge's request hit her, and she almost swore. She was moving up in the Department, but a dead end assignment like this would just result in someone else getting the jobs she wanted. Not only that, but she would definitely end up being the scapegoat if anything at all went wrong.

But…duty was duty after all. "I see. What would my obligations consist of, exactly?" If she wasn't going to get any important and career enhancing job, she'd be damned if she didn't make the best of this that she possibly could. And the only way to do that was to fulfill her duties to the fullest extent possible, and then some.

"Well, you would protect Black from any angry citizens who want to make him pay for his crimes." Fudge hesitated a little. "And if in the course of your work you happen to find some information that proves his guilt…well, it would be your duty as a concerned citizen and Ministry employee to report it. And, of course, the Ministry would be duly grateful in such a case."

Amelia hid her frown carefully. Obviously Fudge wanted her to find something out of order in Black's case so he could put the man back in Azkaban once more. If Black was in Azkaban, then he couldn't say anything about Fudge's incompetence. Amelia was hesitant to take the case on general principle. It did smack of corruption and side room dealings, after all. But...she didn't want the job to go to someone less principled, did she?

If Black was guilty after all, well, then she would bring him in. If he was innocent, however then she would not put him in Azkaban, no matter what Fudge would want. But another witch or wizard in her position, given the chance of getting a promotion and possibly even an award? Amelia shook her head. No, _she_ would take the job, and make sure it was done right. Even though she would not enjoy this job in the least, she would do it right.

Fudge cleared his throat loudly, looking at his watch pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Undersecretary," Amelia said, hurriedly. "Of course I'll take the position."

"That's good to hear, Bones. I'm sure I'll be hearing from you soon?"

"Yes, Undersecretary."

"Then, good day." And with that, the Undersecretary to the Minister hurried off, Amelia glaring at his back as he retreated from her vision.

Amelia stood stock still in the corridor, as people bustled around her, taking in all that had happened in the last few days. She shook her head again to clear it, and promptly made her way back to the courtroom to find her new charge. She didn't notice, but several people made a point of staying out of her way after they saw the look on her face.

* * *

Sirius Black sat utterly still at the chair in Courtroom Ten, stunned by the events that had just transpired. _He was free!_ He should have felt like jumping around and baying like a mad dog. Yet he couldn't bring himself to find any joy at all.

None of his friends had been in the court with him. Sirius had looked all over the spectator stands several times to look for Moony, or Frank and Alice, or even Moody or one of the professors, smiling back at him. All the night before he had been dreaming of his reunion with them all, after nearly a month in a Hell on Earth.

But none of them had been there. Not one of his friends had been there in the courtroom at all. And Dumbledore…Dumbledore thought that he was guilty. How had it come to this? For the first time in nearly fifteen years, the first time since he had first met James Potter, he felt truly alone. Sure he had felt alone before, during vacations when he had been forced to return to the Hell which was his home, but he had always known that his friends would be there when he returned to Hogwarts. And then five years ago Sirius had run away, gone to James' house, where he had always been welcome.

But now, now Sirius felt truly alone. He shivered again as the Dementors came closer. Memories passed through his head again, these even older, ones of being picked upon by his older cousins. His mother, yelling at him, calling him blood traitor. Even his younger brother, sneering at him. Sirius curled up into a ball, or tried to, barely feeling the chains that held him to his chair.

"_Expecto Patronum_."

Sirius watched dully as a silver ram pushed away the Dementors, and feeling slowly returned to his limbs and sanity to his head. The silver ram looked a little familiar. Where had he seen that Patronus before? Was it in the Order? He hoped desperately it was, here to tell him they believed his story and would bring him somewhere he was safe and could sleep for a day or two. Moony, McGonagall, Moody…hell, he would kiss _Dung_ if he came into the Courtroom just then. Well, maybe not kiss, but…

His somewhat hysterical train of thoughts trailed off suddenly as he saw not one of his friends but that square jawed Hit Witch from before…Bones or something like that. She was staring at him somewhat angrily, not at all with the welcome and sympathy he would have wished, whether on her or on anyone.

"Come on then," she said sharply. "You're my responsibility again, so let's get you out of here."

Sirius' head jerked up at that. "Your responsibility?" he asked, incredulously, "but I was acquitted." Then, some slight hope returning despite all the odds, "Did Dumbledore ask you to help…?"

"Dumbledore?" she asked, looking at him oddly. "What would Professor Dumbledore want from someone like you?"

_Well, that was blunt, _he thought. _Obviously _she_ doesn't believe me._

But Bones was continuing, though now it seemed to be more herself than anything. For the moment she seemed to forget he was there. "No, Fudge ordered me to, the bloody—." She stopped herself, looked askance at Sirius for a second, and said, even more sharply than before, "Get moving."

Sirius painfully got up, the chains on his chair falling away to the sides as he stood. Bones turned on her heels and stalked out of the courtroom without a backwards glance, leaving Sirius to follow along. They quickly came to the lift, and took it to the main atrium of the Ministry, which was packed full with people just about to take a break for lunch.

As Bones led Sirius out of the lift, whispering began to spread throughout the crowd.

"Black…What's he doing here?"

"Was he freed?"

"Look, who's that witch?"

Bones changed direction suddenly as soon as they passed the guard post, going left suddenly towards another lift in a far corner of the atrium. Sirius looked at it in confusion. It seemed a little older than the others, and he couldn't remember ever seeing it before, and certainly never using it.

"But the fireplaces are there," he rasped in confusion, looking back towards the familiar green fire of the Floo Network.

"And we're not going out that way," Bones replied flatly. "Too many people."

Sirius had never known there even was another exit from the Ministry besides the fireplaces. _Well, it's not like I set foot here very often, is it?_ He thought, mentally shrugging. _Even though it was here that I met James for the first time. James…_ and that brought him right back to the depressing thoughts that didn't need a Dementor for him to keep right at the forefront of his brain.

He barely noticed as he followed the Hit Witch into the lift and it began to rise, although he couldn't help but notice when the inside of the Ministry gave way to the confusing sight of a busy London street. He recognized cars and motorcycles, from his times exploring the local Muggle town with James when he was at the Potters', but he had never seen so many together before in his life. What…?

Bones turned to look at him. "Come on, Black," she said, glaring at him, "I have to take you to St. Mungo's to get you checked out after your stay in Azkaban. The Apparition Point is this way."

She began walking and Sirius followed, walking out into his rediscovered freedom and a new world. A new world such as he could never have imagined, even in his darkest nightmares; a world without James at his side.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. A little shorter than my previous chapters, but it got the needed points across, I think. I don't know when I'll publish next, seeing as how I'd like to write another chapter of Harry and Millie as well, but we'll see. Thanks for reading, and please review.**


	4. A Plan, a Discussion and a Will

**Well, here's the next chapter of These Grim Bones. I hope to have the next posted next week, assuming all goes to plan and Murphy's Law doesn't kick in (fat chance). This went a little longer than I thought it would, and is actually the longest chapter I've posted so far in any of my fics.**

**This chapter, we get to see a bit of the inside of the ministry, and Amelia and Sirius begin to talk to each other. I apologize for the use of acronyms for the Ministry departments, but considering Amelia is a Hit Witch, and is eventually the Head of the DMLE, it seemed appropriate.**

**Incidentally, part of the will at the end of the chapter reflects a pet peeve of mine – when Peter Pettigrew is left out of the will. The whole point of switching Secret Keepers is that Lily and James don't suspect Peter of being a traitor. Why would they leave him out of the will then? Or even worse, what happened in one fic, where he was given thirty pieces of silver, you traitor! Come on, think.**

**I don't think I handled the will that well, but I didn't really want to spend three thousand words going through the contents of the Potters vault, and I'm sure Amelia and Sirius didn't want to either. Even the disposition of the land wasn't that important, and I didn't intend to have it initially, it just sort of happened.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own this.**

Amelia Bones waited outside of Black's room at St. Mungo's. The Healer had said that he would be about an hour checking up on the man, and it had been about fifty minutes now. As she waited, Amelia had been deciding what to do with the criminal after he left St. Mungo's. No, not the criminal. She had to think of Black as something else now, after he'd been declared innocent by the Wizengamot. Her _responsibility_, then.

Amelia wasn't sure, but she thought that the Blacks had a home somewhere in London, probably in Knockturn Alley, knowing their reputation. She supposed that Black would want to return there, which left her in a bit of a dilemma. As a Hit Witch now assigned in a protective detail to Black, she would normally have to stay by him at all times. But this was not an ordinary assignment, as she wasn't supposed to protect him from a possible threat from a criminal, but rather against ordinary witches and wizards who were angry at him for his crimes during the war. This would require entirely different tactics. It would probably be sufficient to set some wards at his home, assuming that the Blacks' home wasn't already protected better than the Ministry, which was not an assumption that Amelia would bet money on. If Black wanted to go somewhere public, such as Diagon Alley, then she would have to go with him, however. But at least she would be able to sleep in her own apartment.

So, she would get him settled in at his home. He'd probably want to get reunited with his mother, a nasty piece of work by all reports. In any case, after setting wards on the house, and informing him of what she would need to do as his case witch, she could report to her boss to get her official assignment and more information. Presumably she'd get at least five other Hit Wizards under her, the normal number for a protective detail. That, at least, was a step in the right direction within the department, maybe leading to more leadership positions in the future, assuming that this assignment didn't come back and bite her.

After that, well, she'd just have to see. When she got her specific directives from Underhill, she'd plan out her moves, but for the moment, she'd just fulfill Fudge's rather unspecific orders—the spoken ones, that is. As for the rest, well, she'd keep her own counsel. Maybe she could do a bit of detective work on her own, and try to find out whether was in fact lying or if he was actually telling the truth, unlikely though that seemed.

Well, that seemed to be – wait, no. Harry Potter. When she had pulled him out of his cell in Azkaban, Black had said that the Potter boy was his godson. Amelia wasn't sure, but she would guess that he would try get custody of the boy, and wouldn't that be a mess if he succeeded. The savior of the wizarding world in the hands of a mass murderer, and one who had betrayed the child's parents at that.

With that, Amelia Bones felt herself make a decision on a question she hadn't been consciously aware of. She could not in good conscience leave Harry Potter at the hands of Sirius Black if he was indeed guilty of the crimes he was accused of. If Black was innocent, on the other hand, then she would not hand him over to Cornelius Fudge, no matter the consequences to her own career.

"Hit Witch Bones," a voice called from through the door, interrupting Amelia's musing. It was the voice of the Healer, Greeley, she thought.

"Yes, Healer Greeley," Amelia responded, as she entered the room once more.

"Your charge is free to go. He has had no lasting damage from his stay in Azkaban, although he will likely find himself craving chocolate for several weeks."

"Very well, thank you."

"It was no trouble, Bones. I can't say that I like a murderer like Black being set free, but… Anyway, give your regards to your brother for me, please."

Amelia shook her head in amusement. Did Harald know everyone? "Of course, I will. Come along Black."

Black, who had again looked pained as the Healer had mentioned his guilt, nodded and began walking out of St. Mungo's with Amelia. He noticed that they were again heading for the Muggle entrance instead of the fireplaces.

"Why are we going out the Muggle way? And where are we going, anyway?"

Amelia frowned. "Somebody probably leaked the fact that you were here. I'd rather not run into the press, and I'd even less like to run into someone who wants to get a piece of a Death Eater."

Black stopped suddenly, leaving Amelia to turn back and look at him in surprise. He was glaring at her, his mouth bared in a way that would have been more at home on a dog than a man. "I am _not_ a Death Eater."

Amelia wasn't sure how to respond. "The evidence is against you, Black. In any case, it's not about what I think, it's about what some loss crazed wizard or witch with a desire for revenge thinks. Grief does funny things to a person."

_Yes it does, doesn't it, _Amelia thought. Seven years ago, she had planned to become a teacher, or maybe to start researching in Charms, not working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Grief does funny things to a person, indeed.

Amelia looked over to see that Black had been struck silent by this observation as well. His eyes were locked straight ahead, his face in a grimace. Yet another thing to add to Amelia's observations of Black. She couldn't tell if this was mourning for his friends, or anger that someone else might want to take out a death on him, however.

The pair walked in silence for the rest of the trip to the Muggle entrance, stepping out onto a street by a boarded up Muggle store. At this point, Black finally seemed to recover his voice. "So, where are we going, after all, Hit Witch Bones?"

Bones turned to look at him, seeing that he was no longer as visibly angry as he had been earlier. "Well, I assume that you want to see your mother, since you just got out of Azkaban. I don't know where her house is, however, so you're need to…"

"No!" Black shouted. "There is no way I'm going back to that House, ever again."

Amelia looked in surprise at that outburst. She hadn't been expecting that either, for certain.

"Well, you need somewhere to go. I don't suppose that you have an apartment or anything?"

"No, I spent most of the last year or so bouncing between Remus' and the Potters'…" Black's face turned ashen again, and he stared at the ground.

Amelia generally considered herself a fairly even-tempered witch. She didn't have much of a temper, and rarely raised her voice – besides when she was talking to her brother, at least. But this, on top of the aggravation of her new assignment, her thoughts of Fudge's corruption, and her earlier reminder of her parents' deaths, this was too much.

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to betray them to You-Know-Who!" she said loudly. "You have no right, no right to feel sorry for the Potters' deaths when you are the one who caused them." Black, his face still white as a sheet, looked like he was going to interrupt her, but she kept speaking. "How dare you—"

She was interrupted, not by Black, who was still looking stunned, but by a sudden flash coming from behind her. She turned towards the entrance of St. Mungo's to see a wizard just outside the empty Muggle store, the white smoke from his camera's flash drifting slowly to the ground. The wizard quickly ducked back through the store's glass, looking frightened, and Amelia noticed that her wand had somehow appeared in her hand.

Amelia was angry at herself now, for losing control and losing her situational awareness, not noticing the camera until it was too late. She'd better not end up on the front page of the _Prophet,_ or she'd… well, she didn't know what. Probably hex Black into unconsciousness. Speaking of which—

She took Black by the arm firmly, ignoring his mutter of surprise, and Side-Along Apparated him with her, away from St. Mungo's and the possibility of more press surprising them.

* * *

Sirius staggered away from Bones when the Apparition was finished, totally disoriented. Side-Along Apparition was hardly fun even when you were expecting it. Being Apparated without warning made him feel like someone had cast a Spinning Hex on him, and then hit him with a Bludger to the head for good measure.

He sat down where he was, holding his head until it stopped spinning. He glared at the witch standing in front of him. "Merlin's soggy underpants, that hurt. What did you do that for?"

"Sorry, Black." She didn't sound sorry in the least. "I hope it did hurt." Nope, not sorry at all.

Sirius took his attention away from her for a second, glancing around their surroundings. "Where are we?" It looked like a Muggle street, but he could see trees between the buildings around them, so they couldn't be in London anymore. They couldn't be too far outside of London, though, since even the most powerful wizards would find it difficult to Side-Along Apparate someone farther than a few miles.

"I needed to get us away from that wizard. He probably worked for the _Prophet_, and having our picture plastered all over the front page of the _Daily Prophet _will make my job much harder."

"Your job?" Sirius refocused on the Hit Witch. He still wasn't really sure what she was doing, anyway. He'd been declared free, right? "What is your job, exactly? You said something about Fudge. Why are you still following me around? I've been declared innocent, right?"

"Well, yes," Bones admitted. "I've been assigned to keep you from being attacked by anyone who wants to take out their family's losses on you. Fudge didn't say how long I'd be assigned to you." At her mention of Fudge, Sirius saw Bones make a face as if she'd bitten something sour.

Sirius surprised himself by laughing at the face she made, and it looked like he'd surprised Bones too, for she certainly looked taken aback. This was probably the first time he'd laughed in over a month. Probably more than that, since there hadn't been much to laugh about during the War, either, and he hadn't gotten to see the Potters for almost two weeks before they'd…they'd…died.

Sirius leaned to the side and promptly threw up all he had in his stomach onto the ground. His head was spinning again. Images of the Potters, of James and Lily, were flying through his head in pace with the beating of his pulse echoing through his brain. Every heartbeat spent pain throughout his body, starting in his head but quickly spreading to the rest of his body.

Sirius curled up into a ball, trying to shut out the world. Why did James have to die? Why couldn't it have been him? Why did he trust that traitor, Peter?

"Look at me, Black."

He ignored the voice, it didn't matter. What mattered was his memory of James' body, sprawled out on the bottom of their house in Godric's Hollow, the light in his eyes gone. What mattered was Lily, her arms limp on the ground–

"Black!"

Sirius felt a sudden pain across his cheek, and his eyes focused slowly on the woman in front of him. What the…?

"Look at me Black. Can you stand?"

Sirius slowly nodded, and stood up, his head spinning again.

"Okay, hold on. I'm going to help you walk – we just need to go a few meters."

As the woman continued to talk, he focused on her voice, letting her help him walk. He wasn't really sure what she was saying, but he needed to have something to concentrate on or he'd fall into the blackness surrounding his own mind.

He barely noticed their journey from wherever they were to wherever they were going, but suddenly he was sitting down and the woman was no longer talking. He started to curl up again, images of James's body, wand held loosely in a limp hand, filling his mind again.

"Okay, Black, hold on," there was the voice again, something to focus on. It was a lifeline out of the darkness of his mind. "Black, open your mouth, and eat this," said the voice, gently.

Black did as the voice said, and felt himself biting into the wonderful sweetness of a bar of chocolate. He felt warmth spread through his body, expelling the cold that he hadn't noticed was there, used to it as he was from the last month.

He felt his brain come into focus again, although it still felt a little fuzzy. He looked up to see that Hit Witch Bones was standing in front of him. Sirius was sitting on a small red couch, imprinted with some sort of pattern that his eyes couldn't quite focus enough to see. He was in a small apartment, it looked like, furnished only with the couch he was sitting on and a small table in front of him. He could see a door to his left, which presumably led to a bedroom.

"Black, are you with us again?" Bones asked, her voice still much softer than it had been earlier in the day.

Sirius nodded, which promptly sent another blast of pain through his temples. When he brought his hands up to rub his temples, he noticed that his cheeks were damp.

"I've never seen anyone have such a bad reaction after leaving the Dementors. I almost cast my Patronus again, thinking there might be some around, but I thought that was probably unwise, given our surroundings. Besides, the chance of a Dementor coming here is not high, to say the least."

Sirius just looked at her dumbly, unsure of what to say or how to respond to the apparent change in Bones' personality.

"Well then," Bones said, straightening up, her no-nonsense tone returning. "I'm glad that's over with. You're in my apartment now, where I guess you can spend the night, as I gather you'd rather not return home to your mother. It's only three in the afternoon now, however, so if you'd like you can try to find somewhere to stay on your own right now."

Sirius shook his head. "No, I don't think…I'm quite up to that…right now." He managed a slight smile, despite his still spinning head.

"Very well. If you're feeling well enough to do so, I'd like to discuss what you will do in the next few days and weeks. I don't know when I'll be reassigned, but I'll need to be watching out for you for the next few days."

"I don't know…" Sirius shrugged. "There's nothing left…for me, anyway. Not with James and Lily…and Harry…" Sirius' mouth dropped open. "Harry! I need to—" He jumped up from the couch, stumbling slightly as he did so.

Bones was looking at him, with something that was not quite a glare on her face. "As Harry Potter's godfather, I guess that you will be able to get custody of the boy. I don't know if I like the idea, though. Actually, I don't—I'm still not sure if you're a Death Eater or not. But it doesn't really matter, since you do have the legal right."

Sirius looked at Bones curiously. "Thank you, I guess? Do you know what I would…have to do to get custody of Harry?"

"Well, I'd imagine that you'll have to go to the Wizengamot to get custody. I doubt you'll have too much trouble, since you clearly have the legal right. Are you planning on adopting him?"

"No, I couldn't," Sirius responded. "I can't be his father, James is his father…was his father."

Bones looked like she was about to blow up at him again like she did in front of St. Mungos, but held in her anger after a moment. "Black, we really need to talk."

"We are talking," Sirius said, a slight smile on his face.

"No, I mean seriously talk about why you keep on claiming to be innocent."

"Well, I am always Sirius," he said, grinning. That joke never got old, no matter how much…Lily and James got ribbed him for it.

Bones didn't seem like she appreciated the joke either. "What?...Oh. Your first name. Merlin, Black, that has to be the most ridiculously stupid thing anyone has ever said to me."

Sirius chuckled at that, although thinking about Lily and James reacting to this joke caused that familiar pain in his stomach. They wouldn't be there again to groan at his jokes, or laugh as he pulled a crazy prank. Damn that traitor Wormtail. Why would he…?

"Black?" Bones asked. "You with me still? Do you need some more chocolate?"

Merlin, he'd drifted off again. Sirius hoped that wasn't going to be a frequent occurrence.

"Sorry, yes, I'm here," Sirius said, seriously…or Siriusly. This time he didn't say the joke, although he was thinking it.

"So, Black, why do you claim to be innocent? The facts seem to be against you – you killed Peter Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles in cold blood in front of multiple witnesses. But you keep on claiming not to be guilty, and you don't really act like a Death Eater, at that. Doesn't look like you have the Mark, either."

Sirius sighed. Well, at least one person was willing to hear him out. Even if it wasn't Dumbledore, Remus or the Longbottoms listening to him, this would have to do. He sighed again, and launched into the whole sad story, starting with Dumbledore telling the Potters to go into hiding.

He left out the reason why they had to go into hiding since it was told in confidence and even Dumbledore didn't know that he knew about the prophecy – about, not what was in it – but he told the rest. How he had convinced James to change the Secret Keeper from him to Pettigrew, how on Halloween Sirius had gone to check up on Peter and found him missing. How the first thing Sirius had done after that was to Apparate to Godric's Hollow and what he had found there. How he had given Harry to Hagrid, who had arrived thirty minutes later to find Sirius still there, in shock. How he had tracked down Pettigrew the next day and cornered him in a street.

"And then you killed Pettigrew," stated Bones, who was now sitting next to Sirius on the couch. "I don't blame you for that, but you killed thirteen innocent people as well."

"No, I didn't," Sirius said, angrily. "Pettigrew did. Merlin, he looked at me, no remorse, no nothing, and just cut off his finger. He was the one who cast the blasting hex, not me."

"And all they ever found of him was a finger," said Bones in dawning horror. "But the Aurors had to have looked at the memories of the Muggles around. Couldn't they have seen that?"

"I don't know," said Sirius. "Maybe it wasn't really noticeable, maybe they had already assumed my guilt. After all, a Black is always a Black, isn't he?"

"Damn that Fudge," Bones said, snarling. "He tried to cover up his mistakes, and sentenced an innocent man to Azkaban. Merlin's beard!" she swore.

"So, you believe me?" Sirius asked, hope in his voice.

A pause, and then. "Yes…I do believe you. I'm not sure why, and I'm pretty sure I don't like it, but I do believe you."

Sirius almost laughed at Bones' reluctant tone, but he resisted the temptation. Instead, he asked, "Then now what?"

"Well…" Bones looked unsure. "Well, I want to hex Fudge and the Aurors until their eyes are coming out of their feet, but I don't think that's the right move."

This time Sirius did laugh. "While I agree that would be incredibly satisfying, I kind of doubt that would be the right move in this situation."

"So, I assume you want to get custody of Harry Potter, then? You'll have to go to the ministry tomorrow then, and you should probably hunt for an apartment then, as well."

"Okay, and then what? How can I convince everyone, Dumbledore, my friends, that I'm innocent?"

"Well, getting your story out there is probably your best bet. Maybe you can get an interview with someone at the _Prophet_. At least it will put doubt in some people's minds."

"So, we never did discuss exactly what your job will be. You said earlier that Fudge," and here Sirius grimaced in an imitation of Bones' earlier manner, "assigned you to me. What does that mean?"

To Sirius' surprise, Bones actually let out a bark of a laugh at the face he pulled, and then responded. "Well, like I said, Fudge told me to be assigned to your case to ensure that you wouldn't be attacked by furious people who wanted to get back at you for the War."

"Will that happen?" Sirius asked, worried.

"I don't think so," Bones responded. "This was more about Fudge trying to get me to find something out that would justify you going back on trial and being arrested. He wanted me to find something, even if it had to be fabricated. Of course, he didn't say that, but he definitely wanted me to know that turning you inn would be really good for my career."

"Why? Why does Fudge want me in prison? I understand my friends wanting me in prison, although I hate the idea, but why Fudge?"

"Well, it seems that Fudge and his Obliviators allowed several of the Muggles to die on the scene when they could have saved their lives. He's afraid that if you remain at large, his negligence can be revealed and make his run for Minister impossible. At least, that's what my brother thinks."

Sirius spent the next few hours sitting on the couch in Bones' apartment, and then ate a small dinner. After his time in Azkaban, he could barely manage to stomach more than a few bites, but it was still good.

When he complimented Bones on her cooking, though, she laughed. "I can't cook," she said. "I don't have time even if I could. I went to a small restaurant down the road and got them to make me something. Most of the time I just eat at work, anyway." She paused, and then added, almost challengingly, "it was a Muggle restaurant. Is that a problem?"

"No, it's not a problem," Sirius replied, almost offended by her assumption, but not surprised. "I'm not your average in-bred Pureblood bigot. Merlin's Underpants, I've even got a Muggle motorcycle…well, it can fly, and it's invisible, but other than that and a few other modifications, it's a Muggle bike."

Bones seemed satisfied at that answer, and she went back to her meal. After the meal, Sirius sat at the couch again, nibbling on some chocolate, while Bones Flooed to the Ministry to get her official assignment and fill out some paperwork.

Despite his earlier breakdown, Sirius felt better than he had in a long time. Someone believed him! And he'd be able to see Harry soon! With Bones' help, he'd be able to clear his name and see his friends again. He couldn't wait to see Remus again, Merlin, how had he ever thought that Remus of all people could be a traitor, he didn't…

By the time Bones returned, Sirius was laid out flat on her couch, fast asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Amelia brought Black with her to the Ministry to fill out some paperwork. She told him as they went that Fudge, Merlin damn him, had only assigned two other Hit Wizards to her, the bare minimum allowed by standard protocol for a protective detail.

"I don't know what Fudge is trying to pull now," she snarled, the now familiar grimace settling on her face as she said the name. "It doesn't make any bloody sense. Why in Merlin's name would he assign me only two Hit Wizards? He obviously doesn't want me to do my job, but how is this going to encourage me to do what he wants?"

Surprisingly, Black actually had an answer for this. "Fudge doesn't really understand people like you," he said. "He's a politician, and before that he was an Obliviator, not an Auror or Hit Wizard. To him, it's not an insult or a punishment. He's never wanted to command or lead people, he wants to have them listen to him."

"What?" Amelia asked. "Black, that doesn't make any sense."

"To him, it does. Fudge is from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Command, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement sense, means responsibility, means having to deal with small details and having to look out for those under him. He doesn't want that part; he just wants the part where he's an important person. For him, the title is more important than the position. So, he thinks that you'll be flattered that he's given you a fairly important title – head of a protective detail isn't usual for someone only five years out of Hogwarts – while taking away the real duties."

Amelia had a hard time wrapping her head around this. Duty, the responsibility for her people, the opportunity for command, the ability to do good, those were the reasons she'd entered the DMLE in the first place. She could intellectually understand that someone would have a totally different mindset than her, but she couldn't really comprehend it. She snorted. Obviously Fudge had the same problem with understanding her.

"I don't know, but I guess that makes some sense. Doesn't make it any easier to bear, though. How did you figure it out so easily?"

Black grinned. "I've wanted to be an Auror since I was little. My parents, though, all they ever wanted to be were 'The Blacks.' I've had a lot of experience communicating with people who just don't understand me and whom I just don't understand." Despite the grin, there was definitely some pain in his expression.

"I see."

The rest of the journey through the Ministry passed in somewhat awkward silence, until they finally reached the Ministerial Wizarding Register Department (MWRD) in an out of the way corner on level two. The MWRD was a bit of an oddity in the Ministry as it wasn't a part of any of the major departments – DMLE (Law Enforcement), DMAC (Accidents and Catastrophes), DMT (Transportation), DMGS (Games and Sports), DRCMC (Magical Creatures), DIMC (International Magical Cooperation) or DM (Department of Mysteries).

Instead, the MWRD, the Administrative Regulation Department and the Department of Magical Education, among other offices, were all individual offices that reported directly to the Minister. They had all once been part of the Department of Magical Records and Administration before it had been disbanded in 1953 by Minister Leopold for rampant corruption. The MWRD had been moved to Level Two in 1971 when the Wizengamot courtrooms had been moved to Level Ten.

"Good morning, Madam Greenhold," Amelia said politely as they walked into the office. It was a very small office, chronically understaffed. Of course, a large part of the department's functions were fulfilled by magic, but nonetheless the three witches of the department were always swamped in work.

"Miss Bones!" Madam Greenhold exclaimed, happily. Amelia smiled through the obligatory hug and kiss on the cheek, as the older Witch seemed to think that she was still the twenty year old Witch who had needed help with the paperwork after her parents had died, instead of the now twenty-seven year old Hit Witch with a strong career.

Madam Greenhold, after releasing the hug, looked up and saw the man behind Amelia. "Hello, I'm Victoria Greenhold," she said, politely, extending her hand. "And you are?"

"Sirius Black, Madam Greenhold," Black responded, taking the older Witch's hand and kissing it.

Madam Greenhold turned slightly pink, and to Amelia's surprise didn't seem to recognize Black's name. On second thought, perhaps it wasn't such a surprise, as Madam Greenhold was married to her work and probably didn't even read the _Prophet_.

"Well, Miss Bones, Mr. Black, how can I help you? I doubt this is a social visit."

Amelia began to speak, but Black cut her off.

"Well, Madam Greenhold, it would have been a social visit had I known such a lovely Witch was slaving away in the depths of the Ministry."

Amelia was torn between being irritated and amused at Black's behavior. Madam Greenhold, however, obviously had no such conflict, and was laughing at Black's ostentatious flattery.

"You do me too much favor, Mr. Black," she said with a smile. "And this may not be the most spacious place, but it is far from the depths of the Ministry. Slaving away, though, well I don't think that I can contest that part."

"Black," Amelia stated with a warning tone in her voice. "Get to the point."

"Sorry, Bones." He didn't sound very sorry. "Madam Greenhold, I'd appreciate your aid in a matter that's very important to me. My friends, Lily and James, were…killed," he choked a little bit on that part, "a month ago. I should have been given custody of their son, Harry, but I was indisposed at the time of the will reading. Could you help?"

Madam Greenhold, who looked very sad at the mention of Black's friends' deaths, looked at Amelia pityingly, noting the similarity between this Harry's situation and her own. "How old is this Harry?" she asked. "And do you know when the will was read? It would help if you'd narrow down the timeframe. What's the last name?"

"Well, Harry would be a little over a year old now," Black said, his smile slipping a little. "He was born at the end of July, and his parents were killed on Halloween."

At this, Madam Greenhold looked startled. Even she, who didn't keep up to date on the _Prophet _or most of the affairs of the Wizarding world, knew a Harry whose parents died on Halloween. "Not Harry Potter?" she asked, in awe. "Mr. Bones, you are Harry Potter's godfather?"

"Yes, I am. I am…I was James Potter's best friend."

"Well, then, let's get to it," Madam Greenhold said. "Do you know when the will was read or where Harry was placed?"

"No, I don't know either," he said. Amelia thought that he looked surprised at Madam Greenhold's game face. Amelia remembered it herself, from those dark days after her parents' death.

"Well, let's see. Make yourself at home, you two. This might take a little while." Madam Greenhold bustled off into the stacks of paper behind her desk, muttering to herself, and Black looked after her in surprise.

"Where should we sit?" he asked. "It doesn't look like there's more than the one chair."

"I'll stand," responded Amelia. "Hopefully no one got the word that you were here, but you never know, so I should watch the door. We won't get the other two wizards of your protective detail until tomorrow. I've asked if I can pick them myself, and Underhill agreed."

Black looked a little surprised for some reason, but Amelia ignored it. She set herself in a nice position in the corner of the room, her eyes on the doorway. Black looked almost like he was going to protest, but a glare from her and a pointed look at the chair put him in his place.

After only a few minutes, Madam Greenhold came back, looking flustered. Amelia was surprised, she remembered this kind of thing taking much longer, from the few times over the past seven years that she had asked for Madam Greenhold's help.

When she said as much, Madam Greenhold started talking, uncharacteristically upset. "The will wasn't read," she said, looking like that was an offense worse than using an Unforgiveable. For her, maybe it was. "The first thing I do is always check the box of the deceased family, because normally there's a note left saying when the will was read, which could help me narrow down where it is. But the will was still there!"

"What does that mean?" Black asked.

"Well, it means a lot of things. Basically, until the will is read, the Potters aren't officially dead in the eyes of the law. That means their proxy on the Wizengamot remains the same, as does their proxy on the Wizard's Council. The executor of the Potter trust can't make any changes to their investments, and can't use it to support young Harry, either. Hmm, well, it also means that their properties and funds aren't subject to the Mort tax, either."

"Mort tax?"

"Death tax, Miss Bones. On the death of a member of a High House, the heir's inheritance is taxed. Well, actually that's true for anyone, but High Houses are taxed less."

"Oh, I see."

Black interrupted the conversation. "Okay, so their will was never read. Why? And what should we do, then?"

"Well, as to why, I don't know," responded Madam Greenhold. "It probably wasn't even considered in the confusion after You-Know-Who's fall. Do you have any idea of who would benefit from its reading? I've the will here, but I won't open it."

Black considered it, and winced. "Well, the only ones who are likely to benefit from it are me, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Neither Lily nor James has any surviving family. And I doubt Remus even thought of it, I was… indisposed… and Peter is also…missing."

Madam Greenhold didn't draw attention to Black's obvious reluctance to talk about certain things, but instead nodded. "That makes sense, then. No one really thought about the reading of the will, and the only ones who would benefit from it and would be likely to want it read didn't mention it. It's still a shocking oversight, but understandable under the circumstances."

"So what now?" asked Amelia. Why the will hadn't been read wasn't really important. They needed to discuss practicalities.

"Well, I suppose that I'll need to get someone from Gringotts here to read the will, and someone from the DMLE and someone from the Administrative Regulation Department. Give me another moment, you two, and I'll set something up."

Madam Greenhold quickly went to the small fireplace in the corner of the room, and a Floo calls, while Amelia and Black waited a little bit longer. Then she made two Interdepartmental Memos, folded them into a small paper airplane, and sent them in motion towards the lifts. Within twenty minutes, the room was very crowded as first a Goblin popped through the fireplace, greeting Madam Greenhold cordially and nodding to the other two occupants of the room, and then a wizard and a witch came into the office from the lifts.

Amelia smiled and greeted the witch, who she knew from association with her brother. "Good morning, Emily," she said. "My brother told me how helpful you were earlier in the week."

Emily Catlan grinned. "No problem, Amelia. Always glad to help. Besides, I saw that Black hadn't gotten a trial, and if that didn't get my blood boiling, I don't know what did. I don't care if he's as guilty as sin, he's supposed to have a bloody trial."

"Thank you," Black said, smiling as Emily jumped as she noticed who else was in the room. "I appreciate that, even if you don't believe my innocence."

"Well, Amelia, what is Black doing here?" Emily asked. Amelia hesitated for a second. Gossip spread through the halls of the Ministry like pixies at a feast, and having it known that Harry Potter was going to be in Black's custody would make her job much harder. But she trusted Emily not to spread it around too much. Besides, Emily worked in the DMLE's Wizengamot Administration Services, and, much though she detested it, the expression 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' definitely had some merit in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

After a moment she realized her caution was silly, a word she didn't like attributing to herself. Emily was here to witness the reading of the will. It wasn't like Amelia could conceal the whole affair from her anyway.

"Well, Black here is going to try to get custody of his godson."

"His godson?" Emily asked. "I thought that we were reading the Potter's…you're not telling me that Harry Potter is Black's godson?" she asked, raising her voice.

"Shh, keep it quiet. I don't want that to get around too much, or it will make my job much harder."

"What's your job, then? I've heard rumors around the Department, but no one really knows what your new assignment is, besides that Fudge gave it to you personally, and Underhill said that you'll get your pick of Hit Wizards, or even an Auror if you request it."

"Underhill said I could get an Auror?" Amelia asked, incredulously. "He didn't say that to me." She paused, and then got her mind back in order. "In any case, I've been assigned to keep Black here in line."

"Hey!" exclaimed Black. "What do you mean keep me in line?"

Amelia ignored him. "Anyway, yes, Black is Harry Potter's godfather. Apparently the Potter's will was never read, and it's pretty likely that he'll be assigned custody of the boy."

"Are you sure that's a good thing?" Emily asked, nervously.

"No, I'm not sure. That's while I'll be here, to make sure nothing bad happens. Besides, if that is what the will says, then it's law, and it's not my right to contest that."

"Hey, I thought you believed me," Black said, obviously upset.

This time, Amelia did respond to Black's question. "I said I believed you. That does not mean that I think that you'll be the best guardian for Harry Potter, and it also doesn't mean that I trust you completely."

Black seemed still upset, but Amelia didn't want to beat around the bush. The truth was that she didn't trust him. He could have been lying about the whole thing to keep him in her good graces. She didn't think so, but it was possible that he was in fact darker than You-Know-Who and Grindlewald put together and could fool Veritaserum. If he could fool Veritaserum, it wasn't likely that she could see through his deception. Even if he wasn't that dark wizard and was innocent as the driven snow, Amelia didn't know if a haunted former inhabitant of Azkaban was the best guardian for Harry Potter.

The wizard from the Administrative Regulation Department cleared his throat.

"Sorry, Mr….?"

"Marcus Selwyn," he said. "Can we get on with this?"

Selwyn was obviously a pureblood, and just as obviously he didn't really want to be here. No doubt news of this meeting would spread through the pureblood houses like dragon pox.

"Of course. Madam Greenhold, could you get the will?"

"Yes, of course. Bogrod, you are here representing Gringotts and the Potter Trust fund. Miss Catlan, you are here representing the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as is Miss Bones. Mr. Selwyn, you represent the Administrative Regulation Department, and I am witnessing and reading for the Ministerial Wizarding Register Department. Do you all agree with these statements?"

There was a general sound of affirmation from the occupants of the room.

"Therefore, I will begin the reading. The specific bequests will be given to Bogrod to process and distribute, so I won't bother with that. The important parts are the disposition of the Potters' land and, of course, of young Harry Potter. Hmm, let's see… _Being sound of mind and body, _yes, _do bequeath …_ ah, here we are. There are several grants of specific artifacts from the Potter's vault, sums of money…we'll let Gringotts sort those out. Land, then:

"_To Remus Lupin we will grant our house in Godric's Hollow, with the request to make sure that Harry always feels at home there._

_To Peter Pettigrew, we grant the small plot in Devon that he always loved, along with the bequest noted above to build a house there._

_To Sirius Black, we grant the Potter townhouse in London, so he never has to return to his "Ancestral Home."_

"Then," Madam Greenhold continued, "that's settled. I'm sure Bogrod will work out the deeds. Now, to young Harry. _In the event of our death, we grant custody to one of the following people, in order: Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Frank Longbottom, Albus Dumbledore._"

"Well, it seems pretty unambiguous," Emily stated. "Black gets custody of Harry."

The other two witnesses agreed, and Madam Greenhold went into the shelves again to find a form that she needed. "This is a custody form," she explained. "This will affirm that you have custody and guardianship of Harry Potter. If you'd like to formally adopt him, you will have to go through a separate process."

"No, that's all right. All I want is guardianship," Black agreed. "So, I just sign it?"

"Yes, after I fill in the relevant information."

A few minutes later, Madam Greenhold was finished, and Black signed the document where it indicated.

"As witnessed by the people in this room, Sirius Black is granted custody and guardianship of Harry Potter as indicated by the terms of his parents' will, until he reaches the age of seventeen and is of age."


	5. Confrontations and a Reunion

**So, Chapter 5. This ended up being longer than I thought, and included several scenes that I hadn't planned on. The original title was going to be **_**Reunions; Happy and Otherwise**_**, but I quickly realized that this chapter was far more slanted towards confrontations than reunions.**

**The scene with Dumbledore at the end completely came out of the blue, and I was not expecting it in the least, but I thought it turned out well. This is not a Dumbledore bashing fic – in fact, I hate bashing in general, so although some people will be showed less favorably than others, there will be no bashing. That's not to say that Dumbledore will be the good guy; in fact, he will be getting in the way of the good guys more often than not. But what he does, he does for legitimate reasons, and I've never bought into the "greater good" manipulator theory for Dumbledore.**

**So, without further ado, Chapter 5, **_**Confrontations and a Reunion.**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own this.**

Getting custody of Harry wasn't quite as simple as just reading the will, of course. Even after signing the initial paper that Madam Greenhold gave him, Sirius had to stay in the small office for nearly an hour filling out paperwork. About half an hour in, just as Sirius was getting to the end of the paperwork for guardianship of Harry, Bogrod the Goblin returned through the Floo, presumably from Gringotts, with a whole set more of paperwork for the townhouse that the Potters gave him.

As he was working, Sirius noticed Bones, still standing by the door, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet as she warily watched the hallway.

"You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?" he asked.

Bones turned to glare at him. "Well, I'd much rather not be here right now with you, admittedly. But I was given a job to do, and I will do it. Whatever that bloody Fudge thinks."

Sirius felt a headache coming and just turned back to the paperwork instead of responding to Bones' angry comment. He hated this kind of thing; it was even worse than schoolwork. At least with schoolwork there was some kind of point, but paperwork was just invented to get in the way. Not to mention that he was still having trouble keeping his hands from shaking, even several days and a whole lot of chocolate past Azkaban.

Fortunately Madam Greenhold was there to help him, or else he felt sure that he'd be lost in the paperwork for days. These things were written as if their drafter had intentionally made them as obtuse as possible.

When they were finally done, Sirius stood and kissed Madam Greenhold's hand again. He normally tried his hardest to stay away from any behaviors that would remind people of his Pureblood family, but kissing a lady's hand was different, somehow. Besides, Sirius had noticed how kissing Madam Greenhold's hand had irritated Bones when they had first arrived, and he couldn't resist the chance to tease the uptight Hit Witch.

"Thank you for your help, Madam Greenhold. I don't think that I would have been able to do this without you."

"It was no problem to help a nice young man such as yourself," she responded, smiling. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

"I don't at the moment, but I'll remember to keep that in mind," Sirius responded. "And I promise that the next time I visit, it _will _be a social visit."

"You're too kind, Mr. Black," Madam Greenhold said. "And you, Miss Bones, take care of yourself, and I will always be happy to help you as well."

"Thank you, Madam Greenhold," Bones said. The smile on her face disappeared as she faced Sirius again. "Come on, Black. Let's head to the Apparition point. We'll get some lunch, and then we can go get your godson." Under her breath, she added, "Merlin help us," almost plaintively.

Sirius was confused. Just the previous night, Bones had said that she believed he was innocent. Suddenly she seemed hostile again, as if she still thought him a Death Eater.

They walked out of the MWRD, and began going back through the halls of Level Two, which was mainly occupied by the offices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Around them, Aurors, Hit Wizards and Ministry officials bustled back and forth, shouting greetings to their fellows as they went about their job. Bones had brought Sirius into the Ministry early enough in the morning—too early for a civilized person, in Sirius' opinion – that they had seen almost no one when they had arrived. Apparently the Ministry was now open for business.

Sirius noticed that only a few of the DMLE personnel in the halls greeted Bones, and most of those were noticeably older than the average. Several looked at her, and then quickly looked away, and at least a few gave her a rather unfriendly look. Bones didn't give any sign that she noticed the attention, and Sirius wasn't sure if she honestly didn't notice or if she was just ignoring it.

Unfortunately, far more of the Aurors and officials around noticed Sirius himself, and he got quite a few hostile glares. One Auror looked like he was going to pull his wand out, but Bones glared at him and he backed off. To be honest, this attention bothered Sirius more than a little, particularly since he'd once thought that he'd like to be an Auror himself. But he could just pretend that he didn't care, and he could almost convince himself of that.

This approach worked fairly well until he spotted a very familiar face coming out of the lifts directly in front of them.

"Frank!" Sirius said, happily. "I didn't get a chance to—"

"Black." Frank Longbottom said, coldly. "I see the Prophet was right."

Sirius looked at his friend in shock. "Frank, I didn't do it. I would never—"

"Bones," Frank said, turning his gaze to the Hit Witch in front of Sirius.

"Longbottom," she responded evenly, ignoring Sirius' spluttering.

"I expect you to bring Black back to Azkaban, where he belongs."

"If I see him do something illegal, I _will_ arrest him. But I will not send a man to Azkaban for a crime he was acquitted of, whether you think he did it or not."

Frank looked searchingly at Bones for several seconds. What he saw appeared to satisfy him, for he nodded curtly. "That's all I can ask." Frank turned to Sirius, and the coldness Sirius saw in his friend's eyes scared him. "Black, if you get near my family, I will kill you."

"But Frank," Sirius said, pleadingly. "I didn't—I wouldn't—James was my best friend."

Bones moved in front of Sirius as Frank drew his wand.

"I don't want to curse you, Longbottom. But it's my job to protect Black."

Frank ignored Bones, glaring at Sirius with ferocity. "You have no right to say that name. He was your best friend, and you betrayed him. Rotting in Azkaban is altogether too good for you."

Sirius' friend – or former friend – brushed past them as he walked into the Auror Offices, studiously ignoring Sirius. Sirius just stared after him, appalled.

"He didn't…why couldn't he…?" He fell silent, staring at the Auror's Office. Once he had dreamed of being an Auror, working out of that office. Now, the Aurors all either feared or hated him, or both, and thought he was a Death Eater. And his friends didn't believe him; they thought he was a Death Eater too. Why couldn't they believe him? He had been their friend for years, did they really think that he had changed that much?

He shook his head. "Let's go find Harry," he said, getting his thoughts under control. "And let's get out of here."

He ignored Bones' sideways glances, and marched into the lift quickly, not looking back at the dream he had now forsaken.

When they finally got to the Ministry Apparition Point, Bones turned to Sirius, looking almost apologetic.

"I'll have to Side-Along Apparate you," she said. "We should get lunch, but we're going to eat in Muggle London so we don't have to worry about anyone attacking you. Besides, I don't want to tell you which Apparition Point we're going to, or someone might overhear."

Sirius gaped at her. "Are you kidding?" he asked, incredulously. "You're really saying that you're afraid someone will overhear what Apparition Point we're going to, and…what? They'll follow and attack us?"

"Yes, that is a potential worry. Someone who wants to attack you won't have any qualms about doing it in the Muggle world – no witnesses, at least none who can't be easily Obliviated."

Sirius couldn't believe what he was hearing. This woman was absolutely mad, and a total and utter paranoid. Is he going to have to deal with this for…she never did say how long she was going to be assigned to protect him, did she?

Abruptly, Sirius grinned. "Well, I see what you mean. I have a solution, however. You might not like it, but it will make me feel much better." He had always hidden his feelings with humor before, so why not try it again now?

Bones looked dubious. "What solution is that?"

"This." Sirius reached out and grabbed Bones' shoulder, and Apparated himself, bringing her along with him for the ride.

When they arrived at their destination, an Apparition Point in a small alleyway about five blocks away from the Ministry, Sirius let go of Bones shoulder, expecting her to hit the ground, hurling up her breakfast on the cement. Side-Along Apparition always did that to him, at least.

Apparently she was of stronger stuff than that, for instead she just turned to him, back straight as a wand, mouth set in a thin line.

"Don't do that again, Black," she said, sternly.

"Oh, come on, Bones, loosen up. You did it to me, when we left St. Mungo's yesterday. Turnabout is fair play, right?"

"I am not joking around, Black. You couldn't have known this wasn't a trap. For all you knew, there were five wizards here, wands leveled at your chest, and you just incapacitated your protective detail – that might have been the stupidest thing I've ever seen. Those two seconds of disorientation, even leaving aside the fact that I didn't know the layout of the place we arrived at, could have been life or death in a combat situation."

Sirius was taken aback. "Is that what they teach Hit Wizards nowadays? I think you might be a bit over-cautious about this. People have more important things to do than try to kill me."

Bones looked a little more sad than angry, now. "Well, it wasn't exactly in the Hit Wizard training courses, that's true. A friend of my father's, Alastor Moody, offered to train me and my siblings while we were growing up. One of the first things he taught us was that we should always assume the worst. My father was one of the first people to realize what a threat You-Know-Who was, but he didn't worry about it enough, and… well, my parents were some of You-Know-Who's earliest victims."

Sirius felt bad for bringing up such an obviously painful subject – and to be honest, he felt a little bit bad about the Side-Along Apparition too. Not too bad, but a little bit. He gave the Hit Witch a minute to collect herself before walking out of the alley with her to a small restaurant he knew. Unlike many others, this one didn't have any painful memories of eating with James or Lily, or even with any of his other friends. He had eaten at this place once on his way to the Potters that summer he ran away from home. Well, maybe a few painful memories, but this was more of a second-hand association with those memories, so he could probably stand it.

The food was about as he remembered it – not great, but not bad either, although the chips were a little bit soggy. Bones claimed the coffee was very good, although Sirius couldn't attest to the fact, since he never drank the stuff. He would have gotten a cup of tea, but he didn't think that extra caffeine would help the jitters that he was beginning to feel.

The pair made rather awkward small talk as they ate their meals, dancing around the subjects that were currently occupying their attention. Unfortunately, there wasn't much small talk they could discuss without getting onto subjects that were inappropriate to talk about in a Muggle restaurant, and one could only discuss the weather for so long before it became annoying.

Eventually they settled into an uneasy silence as they finished up the last of the meal, and, to Sirius' disapproval, Bones paid for the food. Of course her point that he didn't actually have any money with him was true, but it still rubbed him the wrong way to have to rely on someone else's charity. The fact that the charity was offered by a witch just made it worse.

Finally, the unlikely pair left the restaurant and headed back to the Apparition Point. "Okay, Black, now we'll go get your godson. Where will we find him, anyway?"

Sirius stopped in his tracks at that question. He'd been so caught up with the excitement of finally being able to see his godson that he hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider how he would find the boy in the first place.

"I don't know," he admitted, hanging his head.

"Well," Bones asked severely, "seeing as you went into this without the faintest idea of a plan, where _could_ he be?"

Sirius leaned against a wall of the alley, feeling terrible. "I'm not sure."

"Come on, Black. Just give us something to go on, some possibilities at least."

"I don't know, okay, Bones," he said, angrily. "I didn't think that far ahead, is that what you want me to admit? I was so caught up in the idea of getting to see my godson for the first time in over a month – a month I spent in Azkaban – that I didn't even think about where he'd be. I mean, I don't even know if I should get custody of Harry. Maybe he's living with a good family who'll take better care of him than I ever could."

"Black, you signed the custody papers. Do we need to go back to the Ministry and have them nullified?"

Sirius sighed. "No, I don't want to do that. I'm just…scared? Nervous? Unsure? Something like that."

It was now Bones' turn to sigh. "Okay, we can go back to my place for a bit until you're feeling better. Give you some time to collect yourself."

"No!" Sirius startled himself with his vehemence. "I want to see Harry, I don't want to wait."

"Make up your mind, Black," Bones said, obviously annoyed.

Sirius nodded. "I do want to find him. When we find him, if he's happy where he is, maybe I'll leave him alone. But I have to see him, for James and Lily's sake at the least."

He began thinking furiously. Where could Harry be? Sirius' memories of that awful night were rather blurry, but he remembered loaning Hagrid his motorcycle before going after Wormtail. Where would Hagrid have taken Harry? Surely to someplace that Dumbledore wanted him to go…somewhere safe, hopefully. That's what he would have done, at least, to protect Harry from the Death Eaters, who were mostly still at large.

Where would Harry be safest? Hogwarts? Maybe temporarily, but Sirius doubted that even Dumbledore would think that raising Harry in the castle would be a good idea. Somewhere else with good wards, then, so…

"Blood wards," Sirius said.

"What?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking. Dumbledore probably brought Harry to somewhere with very good wards, but he wouldn't have wanted Harry to become a target by placing him with a well-known Wizarding family."

"But blood wards? I thought you said the Potters didn't have any surviving family."

"Well, Lily had a sister, but she was a Muggle."

"Really, Black?" Bones asked, angrily. "I thought you said you didn't agree with that kind of Pureblood philosophy? 'Had a sister, but she's a Muggle.'" The sarcasm in her voice was audible.

Sirius shrugged. "Well, it's not like she was going to try to contest the will, was she? She wasn't even in the Potter's will, if you hadn't noticed."

"That's not the bloody point," Bones said. She seemed to collect herself, reigning in her temper with a struggle. "Anyway, even with blood wards, a Muggle home wouldn't be as safe as a Wizarding one with good wards. Merlin, my apartment probably has better wards than even Dumbledore could put on a Muggle house."

"Your apartment probably has better wards than the majority of wizards' homes, right?"

Bones gave a small smile. "Well, yes."

"Besides, that's how Dumbledore thinks – even though he's the most powerful wizard I know, he always preferred not to test himself directly against You-Know-Who. He sent the Potters into hiding rather than just protecting them at Hogwarts because he thought that it would be better if no one knew where they were in the first place." Sirius let out a laugh that was at least halfway to a growl. "Fat lot of good that did them."

"So you think that Dumbledore put Harry in the Muggle world, with his Aunt, hoping that no one would find him and that the blood wards would stop a Death Eater if they did?"

"Possibly. I'd have thought he'd learn his lesson from James and Lily's deaths," Sirius said bitterly.

"Well, in his defense, that's not totally a bad idea. Blood wards are some of the least noticeable wards you can erect, and if a Death Eater was looking for Harry, the first thing he'd look for would be homes which were warded more than they'd expect. And no matter how well you think you're protected, there's always someone who can beat your defenses."

"Is that some more Mad-Eye Moody training?" Sirius asked, a small smile breaking through his gloom.

"Well, yes," Bones admitted. "But it's true. So assuming that you're right and Dumbledore placed Harry with this sister of Lily Potter's, where would we find her?"

"I don't know," Sirius said. "Lily and Petunia were never really all that close. I don't think they really ever kept in touch after Lily graduated and left their parents' house."

"To be honest, Black, it seems like 'I don't know' is coming out of your mouth more often than we'd like if we want to find your godson."

"I know, I know," Sirius said, frowning. "I just…I'm just having a hard time even wrapping my mind around the fact that James and Lily are dead. I keep thinking that I can just Floo to their house in Godric's Hollow, and they'll offer me a tea and we can laugh about this bad dream I've been having about You-Know-Who killing them. It's kind of hard to think about where Harry might be when half of me thinks I just have to go to the nearest fireplace and I'll see him in seconds."

Bones looked sympathetic for once. "I understand." Sirius must have looked skeptical, for Bones continued, "No, I really do. You-Know-Who killed a lot of people, Black, not just your friends."

"I'm sorry," Sirius said. "I didn't mean to…"

"Forget it," Bones said abruptly. "So, we have to locate this woman. What's her last name?"

"Evans, that was Lily's name…wait, no, Petunia got married, I think. Lily was really sad because Petunia didn't invite her to the wedding, just sent a short note a month later."

"I'm guessing you don't know the name, though."

"Actually, I kind of remember it. It was something really odd, a very Muggle name. It was…Dubley, Dulley, something like that. Her husband was named Vernon."

"Vernon Dubley." Bones said, thoughtfully, "You're right, that is a pretty weird name. It's probably not too common, either, so maybe we can just look it up."

"Look it up where?" Sirius asked, dubiously. "It's not like the Ministry keeps a record of all the Muggles who are related to Wizards, or anything."

"It's not just the Ministry which has records," Bones responded. "You really do have that Pureblood mentality, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked. He didn't like to be told that there was anything in common between him and his Pureblood relatives.

"I mean we can look at Muggle records. There's probably a central record hub or something, the Muggle equivalent of the MWRD. At least it's a place to start."

"It's worth a try, at least." Sirius wasn't sure whether this would work out, but it was definitely the best idea they'd had so far.

As it turned out, finding Harry was far easier than they had thought. They hadn't even needed to go find some Muggle record place, for as they were walking away from another Apparition Point, this one in central London by a Muggle police station that Bones said she could get some answers from, or at least a lead on where to find some answers, Sirius had a sudden brainstorm.

"Bones, wait, I've got an idea."

Bones looked at him curiously. "Well, Black?"

"Lily received a letter from her sister, right? Well, that means that she must have mailed the letter to a Wizarding post office, which could then send it on by owl post. There is no way that Petunia would ever mail a letter by owl."

Bones nodded slowly. "Which means that we'll probably be able to find out where Harry is by finding out where the letter came from." She looked surprised as she agreed. "That was a very good idea, Black."

"Thank you," he said, somewhat irritated by her surprise. "Let's go, then. I assume you know where the Wizard post office in the Muggle world is?"

"Yes, I do. I'm surprised you do, though."

Sirius grinned suddenly. "James and I went there once, the summer after our fourth year. He decided to try and find out where Lily lived by asking the workers there. Of course, they wouldn't say anything to a pair of Hogwarts students, but you probably will be able to find out."

And of course Sirius was right. Bones had no trouble convincing the postal employees to go into their records and find a letter by a Petunia 'Dubley' from around a year previously. When they checked, it turned out that Lily's sister was actually named Petunia Dursley, not Dubley, but far more importantly, they found out where she lived—on a street called Privet Drive, in Surrey.

Sirius' happiness at finding Harry – hopefully, at least – was barely abated by the suspicion that the postal workers regarded him with, or the low-voiced conversation between the head wizard and Bones, punctuated by frequent glances at him.

If this lead worked out, Sirius would be able to see Harry again for the first time in a month. If he was doing well at the Dursleys' home, then Sirius would have to decide what to do at that point. However, from what he remembered hearing about Lily's sister, he guessed that at the least Harry wouldn't learn about magic from her. So there was certainly a place for Sirius in Harry's life, even if it wasn't necessarily direct guardianship.

Sirius and Bones Apparated to the nearest Apparition Point to Number 4 Privet Drive, the abode of the Muggles named Dursley. The Apparition Point was a few blocks away, but the weather was fairly warm for early December, and the walk was a pleasant one. While they walked, Sirius could feel himself simultaneously getting incredibly excited to see Harry and being totally afraid of what the meeting would mean. Would Harry be all right? Maybe he would rather stay with these Dursleys than with Sirius. Did he have nightmares about the night…that night?

"You all right, Black?"

"What?" Sirius asked, startled out of his reverie.

"I asked if you're all right. We're almost there."

Sirius looked up and saw that Bones was right. They had just passed Number 12, so the Dursleys' house was only about a block away.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just, well, nervous."

Bones didn't say anything, just nodded, and the two walked the block in silence, finally arriving at Number Four Privet Drive.

Bones walked forward and knocked on the door. After a moment, a thin, bony woman opened the door and froze, staring at them.

"Are you Petunia Dursley?" Bones asked, politely.

"Why do you want to know?" the woman asked. "What does a freak like you want with a normal woman like me?"

"Freak?" Bones asked. "I'm not sure—"

"Look at what you're wearing!" the woman exclaimed. "If that's not freakish, I don't know what is."

Sirius looked at Bones, and then at himself, and noticed that they were still wearing robes, not Muggle clothing. Well, that explained some of the odd looks they had received at the restaurant earlier, although no one there had seemed to care as much as this woman did.

"Look, Mrs. Dursley, we just wanted to ask a few questions about your nephew Harry."

"Harry!" she shrieked. "We took him in like you freaks wanted, out of the goodness of our hearts. That doesn't mean we have to treat him like he's our son, or like he's normal!"

Sirius felt elated as he found out that his guess was true, and that Harry was actually living here. He also felt guilty about how happy he felt that Petunia obviously didn't want to keep Harry around.

"Mrs. Dursley, I'm Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. I'd like to see him, if that's possible."

"The freak is around somewhere. Come back later, my husband and son are out at the moment," Petunia said. "On second thought, don't come back at all, I don't want freaky people like you wandering around my house."

Bones was obviously angry, but it didn't show in her voice. "Mrs. Dursley, I work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the Ministry of Magic. Mr. Black here has been awarded guardianship of Harry Potter, and we'd like to see him."

"Don't say that word!" Mrs. Dursley said, snarling.

"What?" Sirius asked, surprised. He looked at Bones, who shrugged back, clearly as lost as he was.

"The M word. You know, m-m-magic," she said, her voice breaking as she tried to say the word. Sirius and Bones both looked at her as if she were crazy. She opened the door suddenly. "Come inside, quickly, before someone sees you."

Sirius complied, walking inside the small house. It looked very boring, very much the way he imagined a Muggle house. He noticed a large number of pictures which seemed to be of a baby, but that baby was clearly not Harry, as the boy in the pictures had blond hair, not the black hair of James' son. Where was Harry?

When he asked the question, Mrs. Dursley got a pinched look on her face, and her eyes shifted back and forth in an obviously worried manner.

"Where is Harry?" he repeated again, raising his voice.

"I'll get him," Mrs. Dursley said.

"I'll come with you then," Bones said. It was not a request.

Mrs. Dursley's reaction confirmed that he was right to be suspicious, as she looked panicked and said, "No, that's quite all right. There's no need of that."

"Yes, there is," said Bones, dangerously. Sirius almost laughed at how scary she looked, but his worry for Harry over-ruled any half-baked urge to show mirth.

"Alright, come along, freak," Mrs. Dursley said. "It's not like we even wanted him anyway, so why should we treat him as if he were our son?"

Sirius, angered beyond words by her words, stepped forwards. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he had to do something. Perhaps fortunately, Bones raised her hand to stop him before he had taken more than one step.

"Stay here, Black," she said. Sirius glared at her, but she held firm. "If this is what I think it may be, I need to be an impartial witness. You are far from impartial."

Mrs. Dursley looked worried at that, but she couldn't really do anything, so she ignored the exchange and led the way up the stairs, Bones following behind.

Sirius collapsed onto a couch, holding his head in his hands. To think, less than five minutes previously, he had been happy, in a sense, to find that Petunia hadn't wanted Harry. And now, well, if Bones was right in what she obviously suspected, then Petunia indeed wasn't 'treating him like her son.' Sirius felt guilty, as if his hope that Harry would be better off with him had somehow caused this. Of course, it wasn't certain that anything bad was happening – maybe Petunia was just upset about seeing 'freaks' around in her house, and Harry was fine.

But the last time he had felt a gut feeling, he had prayed to Merlin and the Founders that it was just a false alarm, prayed that Peter had just gone out for a bite to eat or something. Instead, he had found the bodies of James and Lily, and given Harry to Hagrid before trying to hunt down the traitor. And now he had discovered that giving Harry to Hagrid might have been even more of a mistake than trying to hunt down Wormtail, and _that_ choice had landed him in Azkaban.

Sirius, fed up with waiting and filled with anticipation and not a little fear about what condition Bones would find Harry in, stood back up and began walking towards the stairs. Before he could take more than a few steps, however, he saw Bones come back down, holding a bundle in her arms.

"Harry!" he exclaimed, stepping closer.

Bones handed the boy to him, and he looked in happiness as he saw Lily's green eyes and James' black hair. But Harry felt thin, smaller than he had been just a month before. He didn't seem to notice Sirius, just stared straight ahead lethargically.

"Why does he feel so light?" Sirius asked. He glared at Petunia, who stood on the second step of the stairs, looking down with thin lips pursed.

Bones told him where she had found Harry, and Sirius drew his wand on Lily's Muggle sister. "A cupboard?" he shouted. "You put my godson in a cupboard? Why in Merlin's name would you do that to a baby, and your own nephew?"

For the third time, Petunia said, "I agreed to take him in, not to treat him like our own son. He's a freak, just like you, and just like my sister."

Sirius saw red. "_Levico—"_

"Black, no!" Bones knocked his wand down before he could cast a spell. "No matter how much she may deserve it."

Sirius glared at Bones for a second, before nodding slightly. He turned back to Petunia. "I will be taking Harry with me. I wish you the worst of the rest of your Muggle life."

Bones turned to Petunia as well. "There will be an investigation," she said. "As young Harry's guardian, Black has the authority to ask for recompense for harms done to his charge."

"You freaks stay away from us!" Petunia shrieked. "We've done nothing wrong."

"Nothing wrong?" Sirius shouted, raising his wand again. "You left my godson in a cupboard and didn't feed him well enough! Just be glad you didn't do anything more, or I'd hex you into next year."

"Black," Bones said. Sirius ignored her, staring at the white-faced Muggle with hatred. "Sirius," Bones said, more softly. "Let's go."

Sirius put away with his wand, still glaring. "Okay," he said. As they turned towards the door, Sirius adjusted his hold on his godson, looking down at the sleeping face.

Just as they walked onto Privet Drive, Harry's eyes seemed to focus suddenly, looking sleepily up at his godfather. "Pa'foot," he said, smiling.

"Yes, Harry, it's Padfoot. I'm here for you now, don't worry."

* * *

Amelia Bones was not someone who was easily angered. She could be irritable on occasion, she would freely admit it, but anger was not something that came naturally to her. However, as she walked out of that Muggle home, half a step behind Black and his godson, she was furious as she had ever been. That Muggle, how could she? When she had followed the woman up the stairs of her house, and seen her unlock—unlock!—the door to a small cupboard under the stairs to draw out little Harry Potter, she had nearly cursed the Muggle right there and then.

It was only her sense of duty and right that kept her from doing so, and it was a near run thing. Still, though, cursing a Muggle smacked of Muggle-baiting and other unsavory, Pureblood things that she held no truck with, even a Muggle as odious as that one.

She would, however, certainly follow through on her threat to send an investigation. A woman who treated a child, and the Boy-Who-Lived at that, like an unwanted creature, she deserved to be sued for all she was worth. To be honest, she deserved some time in Azkaban to reflect on her sins, but that would never happen for a Muggle, no matter the crime.

Abruptly, a thought struck Amelia, and she paused. "Black," she said, "bring your godson back to my apartment. You know where that is right? I just need to check on something."

"Sure," Black said, with a bit of doubt in his voice. "How long will it take?"

"Not more than a few seconds. And the wards in my house are sufficient to stop pretty much anything for long enough for you to get clear."

Black nodded, and proceeded down the street to the Apparition Point, and Amelia turned back towards the house. Blood wards, Black had surmised, and that was certainly a likely possibility. To be honest, Amelia had assumed that Black was just grasping at straws, that Dumbledore wouldn't leave a child in the Muggle world. But now that Black's guess had been proven correct, Amelia wanted to check and see how strong the wards were, and see if there were any bits of it she could re-use in her own wards.

With Harry in Black's custody, the pair would become a target of both sides, and she needed to be sure that she wouldn't fail in her duty to protect Black, no matter what Fudge actually wanted.

"Whoa," she said in surprise, staggering backwards as her diagnostic spell revealed an incredibly complex and strong set of wards. How was that even possible? There was no way that a Muggle household could have the kind of power that a ward like that would require. There wasn't anything to anchor it on, and even if Dumbledore himself set wards of this strength, it should have mostly disintegrated within a day or two.

Unless it was anchored to a person, rather than a thing. If it was anchored to Harry himself, then perhaps that would increase the staying power of these wards, although they shouldn't be this strong, even then. But if they were keyed to Harry, then Apparating away should…

And all at once, presumably at the same time as Black Apparated away with his godson, the wards collapsed in a brilliant spray of light, spilling inwards on themselves until they vanished altogether.

Well, that was slightly unexpected. There were serious disadvantages to anchoring wards on a person, rather than an object, not least of which was that the wards would fall when the person got too far away from the protected area. Well, this was a surprising twist of events, now, wasn't it?

Amelia turned away to return home and meet Black and Harry at her apartment. Not much information there, was there? Still, it was certainly an interesting sight, and one that she was glad to have seen, as wards falling for loss of their focal point wasn't a very common sight. It was just lucky that she had already had a diagnostic charm up when the little boy left –

_Crack!_ Came the sound of an Apparition, and Bones swirled, drawing her wand as she did so, mentally preparing a spell to deal with a Death Eater trying to –

Dumbledore! Before Bones could even try to put her wand away, it was flying out of her hands, and into the hands of the Head of the Wizengamot.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," she said respectfully.

"Bones, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked, the usual twinkle in his eyes absent. "What happened here?" Bones noticed that the Professor hadn't stopped pointing his wand at her.

"Sir, I removed a young boy from a family that was not treating him well. Those Muggles were leaving him in a cupboard."

Dumbledore's expression barely changed, but Bones thought that she caught a wince. He did lower his wand, to Amelia's relief, but he didn't return her own wand to her.

"And what were you doing here in the first place, Miss Bones?"

"I was assigned to be the protective detail for Sirius Black," she responded. "He was granted custody of his godson, Harry Potter, this morning. When I realized the family situation, I left Black behind so I could retrieve the boy and be able to offer unbiased testimony to the investigators when they prosecuted these Muggles for neglect."

Dumbledore's gaze grew stern behind his glasses. "Miss Bones, you don't know what you have done," he said. "You have just taken away the best protection available for Mr. Potter, and handed him over to his worst enemy."

"Professor Dumbledore, I have been assigned as the protective detail for Black. As his ward, I intend to protect Harry Potter as well. And if that means protecting Mr. Potter _from_ Black, then I will do so."

"The best way you could protect Mr. Potter would be to turn Black back over to the Ministry and send him back to Azkaban."

"I do not intend to send a man to Azkaban on a whim, Professor Dumbledore," Amelia retorted sharply. "If I see him doing something illegal – and that includes mistreating Harry in any way – then I will send him to Azkaban, and happily. But before that, I will not."

"I hope you do not live to regret that decision," Professor Dumbledore responded, lowering his head.

As Amelia looked at Dumbledore, she began to wonder herself. The self-doubt she'd been feeling for the last few days grew, as she thought of the possibility that she was actively aiding a criminal and mass-murderer. Sure, he had been acquitted, but there were witnesses, and everyone knew, including Professor Dumbledore himself, that Black had been the Potters' Secret Keeper.

_No! _Amelia thought suddenly. _I will not break my principles! If Black is guilty, then I will turn him in at the time I find it out, not any time before. _Besides, this wasn't about Black, in any case, this was about little Harry. And she was not in the least guilty about taking Harry away from that nest of awful Muggles.

"I hope so too, Professor Dumbledore," she responded, a little of her doubt seeping into her voice despite herself. "In any case, I am neglecting my duty. I must return to watch Black."

"Very well, Miss Bones," Dumbledore said. "Don't let me keep you. I must inspect what is left of my wards. Incidentally, here is your wand back."

Amelia accepted the wand from the Professor, and turned to return to the Apparition Point. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore himself could ignore the rules and Apparate into the middle of a Muggle street, but she would go to the hidden Apparition Point like a good witch.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stood where Miss Bones left him, peering after her in dismay. Well, it was always so, wasn't it; even the best plans could be laid awry by unforeseen things.

When he had first realized the wards of Privet Drive had fallen, he had feared that Black was even more of a black wizard than he had first thought, to be able destroy the blood wards that had been placed over young Harry Potter. Of course he had suspected Black—who else could it have been, when young Harry was threatened less than a day after Black was acquitted?

Instead, however, Dumbledore found that Black was even more evil and cunning than he had feared, that the man had somehow convinced another to do his bidding. There was no one as dangerous as a man who could convince others to do the wrong things for the right reasons.

Dumbledore could tell that Amelia Bones truly believed what she said. Even a surface use of Legilimency showed that Amelia was indeed worried about Black, but that she also believed it wasn't her place to turn him in unless she saw him do something illegal. She also obviously believed that Harry had been in danger at the Dursleys, and that removing him was for his own good.

And that was a subtle way to get past his wards, wasn't it? How had Black realized that the wards only stopped people who meant Harry harm? Once he had realized that, it wouldn't be terribly difficult to convince an honorable but naïve witch like Bones to remove Harry from his Muggle family. It was made easier by the troubling nature of the Dursleys, of course, but Dumbledore had not doubt that Black would have managed to convince Bones anyway.

_How had I not seen it?_ Dumbledore asked himself. How had he never realized the true nature of Sirius Black? Had Black been lying to everyone throughout his years at Hogwarts? Or had the laughing troublemaker been brainwashed by his family sometime during the summers he spent at home before he ran away? Had even that been just a sham, a play by the Blacks to get Sirius close to the Potters?

Dumbledore suddenly felt all of his many, many years. He'd always known that he couldn't save everyone, couldn't protect everyone, but too many times, he'd seen promising young people grow up and throw everything they had away. Tom Riddle, such potential, such genius, but also so much anger and hatred in him. Severus Snape, who turned to the Dark Arts to salve his insecurity, and only been brought back from the brink by love. Sirius Black, that young boy who wanted to rebel against his family, but eventually was just used by them in their plots. And, of course, his original failure, Gellert Grindelwald.

Just as his misjudgment of Grindelwald had caused the death of Ariana, so had his misjudgment of Sirius Black caused the deaths of Lily and James Potter. Dumbledore resolved to ensure that he would keep little Harry Potter from following his parents into death at the hands of a traitor. He would wait a few weeks, and then recruit Miss Bones to join him in protecting Mr. Potter. While Black would surely not be so bold as to harm Harry while Bones was still on 'protective detail,' that meager protection would not last, as surely Bones would be reassigned eventually. But Black would certainly show his true colors, too, and an honorable and good witch like Amelia Bones would surely see that.

Mind resolved, Dumbledore strode towards the Muggle house of Petunia Dursley, to inspect the damage to his wards – probably not recoverable, but you never knew – and to see what she herself had been thinking. He had never imagined that she would actually treat her young nephew as badly as Bones clearly believed she had. Yet another failure to lay at his feet, and one that he was in Miss Bones' debt for solving, no matter what other problems it might lead to.

As he hurried towards the Muggle house, he resolved to carry out his business here quickly. The sooner he was finished, the sooner he could be out of the December chill and back in his warm office, with thick woolen socks on his feet and a hot chocolate in his hands.


	6. Protecting the Boy-Who-Lived

**Well, several months later, here's the next chapter of **_**These Grim Bones**_**. This chapter is interesting, I think, as it really sets the stage for the future.**

**Starting the chapter after next, time will begin to accelerate again. The first six chapters took place in the space of slightly under a week, and the next chapter will fit into that time scale. The next chapter will have **_**a lot**_** happen in it, incidentally. But after that, things will move forward much faster. Chapter eight will take place a few weeks later.**

**In case anyone was wondering, I am still working on **_**Harry and Millie**_**. I've gotten a bit of writer's block, and I'm not sure exactly where I want to go from where I am, but I have the next chapter written. The problem is that I don't like it, so that chapter is probably going to go through quite a few changes before I post it.**

**Out of curiosity, I'd like to ask my readers two questions. Well, it's not just pure curiosity, it's also the desire to improve. If you have any constructive criticism, please don't hesitate to tell me.**

**The first question is this: has my characterization been consistent? Since I've written this in bits and pieces for a few years now, I'd like to know whether the story seems disjointed at all. I'd like to think it's not, but I'm a little close to it, so I'd like your opinions.**

**Secondly, what character would you most like to see more of? I'm interested to know if there are any characters you think I'm neglecting, or you think would fit in well with the story. No guarantee I'll put them in, but I will think of it, especially if you give a good reason.**

**Anyway, enjoy.**

**I don't own any of this. **

When Amelia Bones Apparated into her living room, she stood for a few moments, thinking. The encounter with Professor Dumbledore had left her shaken, unsure that she was doing the right thing. What if everyone was right? What if Black meant to harm Harry Potter? If Black was the dark wizard everyone was sure he was, he could be messing with her mind, couldn't he?

_No._ She shook her head. She had more faith in herself than that, and she had more faith in Veritaserum than that. That was exactly the way to becoming a whackjob who read the Quibbler and believed in the Rotfang Conspiracy. Sure, it was possible that Black was such a powerful wizard that he could fool Veritaserum, and if he were that powerful he could certainly fool one Hit Witch Amelia Bones. But an equally explanatory and far more likely explanation was that Black was just telling the truth. That's the problem with nutters like the people who read the Quibbler. They took the lack of evidence supporting their claims as proof that they were right, for clearly if there was a conspiracy, then 'they', whoever 'they' were, were just covering it all up.

Of course, she wouldn't let her guard down. Couldn't, in fact, for her orders were indeed to watch out for illegal activity on the part of Black. But she didn't have to believe him a blacker wizard than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself.

Anyway, she should see how little Harry was… where were Black and his ward? She glanced around her sitting room, quickly, scanning for them. "Black?" she asked, loudly. Had he gone upstairs?

When she hurried to the kitchen, still looking for the pair, she was greeted by the sight of a note sitting on her kitchen table. She picked up the parchment and read it.

_Bones,_

_There wasn't any food in your kitchen that Harry was willing to eat. Little Prongs is starving, clearly, and he's as light as a pixie. We've gone to Diagon Alley for some food. We'll be back soon._

_Sirius Black_

"Merlin's soggy testicles!" Amelia swore, viciously. What an idiot. Diagon Alley of all places? Surely the fool knew better than that?

She immediately Apparated to one of the Apparition Points at Diagon Alley. She hadn't really thought about it, just reacted, but upon appearing in the Alley, she instantly realized that she had made the right choice of Apparition Points to head to. Of course, Black would head for Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour to get some food. That was just like him.

She shook her head, and hurried towards the commotion that was brewing up ahead, cursing the heavy Hit Wizard robes she was wearing, which severely restricted her movement.

"Well, Black? Why'd you do it?"

To Amelia's surprise, the wizard confronting Black and Harry was not someone who had lost friends or family to You-Know-Who and blamed the man for their deaths. Nor, even, was it a friend of Lily and James Potter who wanted Harry in better hands than a suspected Death Eater. Both of those possibilities, Amelia had expected, and prepared for. She was quite ready to intervene, and she was sure she could convince an accoster like that to stand down.

But of all the possibilities, she did not expect Rodolphus Lestrange, of all the wizards in Britain, to be confronting Black, not in broad daylight. He still had a warrant out for his arrest, so what in Merlin's name was he doing in Diagon Alley accosting Sirius Black?

Black had his wand out, but he was clearly encumbered by Harry, who was clinging to him in fear. "Back off Lestrange. I didn't have anything to do with You-Know-Who's death, but if I could have I would have killed the tosser myself."

"Come off it Black," Lestrange retorted. "I didn't know at the time, but it makes so much sense. How else would the Dark Lord be so sure that the boy would be a threat? And how else could he have gotten through the Fedelius charm? No, you were clearly one of us, even if no one but the Dark Lord Himself knew it."

The crowd around Florean's had shrank back from the confrontation from the start, as they realized that there was a known, declared Death Eater in front of them, facing off with the man who the Prophet had called You-Know-Who's right hand man. On the one hand, the bystander's fear was good, for the last thing Amelia wanted was to have innocent bystanders in the line of fire when she took down Lestrange. However, it also made it _bloody _difficult to make it through, however much she pushed.

The moment she had recognized Lestrange she had sent a Patronus to the Ministry, but it was going to take at least ten minutes for the Duty Aurors to respond, and in the meantime she had to contain the situation.

Black, his glance going to the turbulence in the crowd as Amelia pushed her way through, clearly understood her motion to keep Lestrange talking, and looked relieved. He turned his body a little more, trying to keep Harry away from the madman across from him.

"Listen, Lestrange, you're mad. I never supported your precious Dark Tosser, and Lily and James were my friends. I would never have betrayed them, not in a million years!"

Lestrange ignored his words as if they had never been said. "What I'm not sure of, though, is if you intended from the start for the Dark Lord to d…. fail."

If the situation hadn't been dire, Amelia would have thought it funny that Lestrange had so much trouble saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was dead. As it was, she just took the way the man's hand tightened on his wand as a sign that she didn't have much time. She carefully drew her own wand, and started circling around as much as she could, trying to get behind the Death Eater. He still hadn't noticed her, and she ignored all the gaping people around her as she prepared herself, even as the wizard continued to rant.

"Were you hoping to take the Dark Lord's position, was that it?" Lestrange mused, his face caught in a rictus of madness. "Surely you should have realized that none of us would follow you over Him. Or did you not realize what would happen. Maybe you believed that the Dark Lord would succeed, and you hoped to use that success to take a hold of the Potter's money?"

"Do not speak of them! Lily and James' name does not deserve to come from your lips!" Amelia was afraid that Black would try to curse the Death Eater and get Harry caught in the duel that would ensue, but fortunately Black had better control of himself than she would have guessed.

Lestrange continued, still ignoring Black's protesting words. "I _am_ sure that you were never truly one of us." He sneered, contorting his face even further. "Oh, maybe the fools at the Prophet believed that you were. But I know you Blacks, always looking out for your own advantage. Bellatrix told me about you, Sirius Black. _Tojours Pur_," he sneered, as he stepped closer to Black left. "Only my Bellatrix really knows what that means, because she's the only true Black. A true Black would never rest until all of Britain is rid of the Mudbloods and Muggles that taint her. And I'll start with the Mudblood under your arm!"

Amelia was moving even before the Death Eater spoke those last words, her instincts screaming out his intention to move well before her mind processed it. She wasn't in a perfect position to strike, but she couldn't wait any longer.

All Hell broke loose.

* * *

Sirius, tensing as the Death Eater walked closer to him, kept Harry behind him as much as possible. _Hurry up, Bones!_ He thought, desperately. Sirius was absolutely certain that he could take the prick in front of him. He had always been the better dueler, even as Lestrange delved into Darker curses and hexes than Sirius ever would.

What Sirius wasn't sure of, was whether he could simultaneously take Lestrange and protect Harry. And, of course, in a decision between those two goals, Harry clearly came first. So, if Bones managed to stun him before the Death Eater had a chance to throw a curse, that would be ideal, but if it came down to it, Sirius would act as a distraction and let the first curse go to him instead of Harry.

When it finally happened, Sirius was taken by surprise. He had been concentrating on Lestrange's words and on trying to keep him talking like Bones had asked, so he wasn't paying attention to the Death Eater's wand hand like he should have.

Time seemed to slow down as a dark blue spell emerged from Lestrange's wand, heading directly for Harry. Even as his body was reacting, yelling "_Protego_" and curling himself in front of Harry, who was still clutching to his side, Sirius thought absently that James would have scolded him for paying too much attention to his opponent's mouth, instead of his wand.

"You do know that there's a thing called non-verbal magic, don't you, Sirius?" James would have said, smirking at him. Sirius wasn't really sure how he was moving. Surely his brain had never given orders to his body, since he was caught up in a conversation with his dead best friend. Why was time moving so slowly?

He could see the shield coming up, but it was clearly neither powerful enough nor in time, as Lestrange's spell blew through it like it was nothing. Sirius' last thought before the spell hit was that at least Harry was out of the way.

He sat up with a gasp. "Harry!"

"Take it easy, Black," a voice said, but his eyes couldn't quite focus on it. "You were hit by a pretty powerful curse."

He ignored that. "Where's Harry?" he asked, urgently, trying to stand up. His legs wouldn't quite obey him, and neither would his eyes.

"Don't worry, Harry's fine. You caught the brunt of the curse, he only got a few secondary effects."

"He got hit by it?" Sirius shouted. "I thought I managed to block it!"

Sirius' eyes were slowly focusing, but he was still having trouble standing.

"Merlin, you were lucky, Black. If you had reacted half a second later…" Sirius could finally recognize the witch crouching next to him as Amelia Bones. "But relax, Harry's fine. In fact, here he is."

"Pa'foot?" Sirius instantly relaxed at the sight of his godson and ward, still looking frightened, but at least safe for now.

"I'm not sure exactly what the curse Lestrange used was, but it wasn't pretty. It looked like your skin was trying to rip itself off on its own. Luckily, your shield charm managed to weaken it enough that the Healers were able to stabilize you when they arrived. At least that's what they say, I don't know enough Healing or Dark Arts to be able to judge it."

"But Harry?"

Bones smiled slightly. "The secondary effects? Your little godson turned dark blue, all of him, even his clothes. If it hadn't been for the fact that you lying on the ground frightened him half to death, I think he would have enjoyed it."

"I turned b'ue," Harry said, happily, relieved that his godfather was smiling at him, even if he was still sitting on the ground.

"Did you know, little tyke?" Sirius grinned. "I ought to turn you purple, see how you like that." Still watching Harry, who had stopped focusing on Sirius and was now turning his attention to the ground, where the cobbles of the street apparently fascinated him, Sirius asked Bones, "and Lestrange?"

"On his way to the Ministry. The Aurors and Healers showed up about three minutes after…"

"Yeah, I get it," Sirius said, bitterly. "I endangered myself and Harry. And I didn't even manage to stall him for long enough for the Aurors to get here. Maybe I was right. Maybe I should have left Harry with the Dursleys, at least then he would be safe."

Harry looked up as his name was called, and smiled at Sirius.

"Don't be daft." Bones said, her voice sharp. "I wasn't expecting a Death Eater to confront you in public, in Diagon Alley of all places, either. Sure, I expected one of the Potters' friends to try to curse you or a widow of one of You-Know-Who's victims." Sirius winced at that, but Bones continued. "But if you think that Harry is better off with a family that hates him than with you, you're sorely mistaken."

A flash surprised Sirius, and he turned to see another bloody photographer, the smoke just drifting away from the camera.

"Get out of here!" Bones barked. "This is a Ministry investigation, and you do not have authorization to be here."

She motioned to one of the Aurors milling around, and with a nod, he escorted the photographer out of the way.

Sirius just now noticed that the place was swarming with Aurors. There had to be at least ten, nearly half of the DMLE's Auror force in one place.

One of the Aurors, older than the others, walked up to Bones. "Bones," he said, with clear respect in his voice, "we've secured the area, and brought Lestrange back to the Ministry. I recommend that you take Mr. Potter to a safe location…" he looked at Sirius distastefully, "as well as Black here."

"Of course, Auror Scrimgeour. I still haven't had time to get a safe house or anyone else on the protective detail, but they'll be safe at my place for now. I've got sufficient wards for the moment."

Scrimgeour looked like he was going to object, but then paused. "Before this, I would have doubted it. But, well…you did a good job, Hit Witch Bones. I would be proud to have you on the Auror force with me. If you want I'll talk to the Head Auror, and see if you can get transferred."

"Thank you, sir, but I'm just a Hit Witch, not an Auror. I'm flattered by the offer, but I have a job to do," Bones said, almost successfully hiding the shock which she was clearly feeling from that acknowledgement. "Come on, Black, get your godson and let's get out of this place."

As the three began to walk away, Scrimgeour called after her, "Bones?"

"Auror Scrimgeour?"

"You executed a picture perfect takedown of one of You-Know-Who's finest Death Eaters," Scrimgeour said. "You are clearly not 'just' anything." He paused, and then added. "In any case, remember you now have the Boy-Who-Lived under your care. As we saw today, he's not out of danger just because He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone."

Sirius felt a chill run down his back at that statement, and clutched Harry to him protectively.

"Hey there, Prongs Junior," he said, softly. "Don't worry about anything, me and Hit Witch Bones will protect you."

One of the Aurors snorted, and Sirius glared at him, fiercely.

Just as they reached the Apparition point, Scrimgeour called out once again. "One more moment, Hit Witch Bones?"

"Sir?"

Scrimgeour beckoned Bones back, and said something in a low voice, glancing at Sirius as he did so. Sirius couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could guess. _Merlin!_ Would he ever convince people that he was innocent?

After a few low-voiced comments between the two DMLE employees, Bones rejoined Sirius.

"We need to find a better safe house than my flat," she told him. "My wards are good, but they could be better, and my flat is too obvious. It's also too small for our needs, and clearly isn't well suited for a child."

"Well, I can just go look for an apartment," Sirius replied. "It's not like I'm poor anymore, not after…"

"Right," Bones said, clearly noticing Sirius' reluctance to utter the Potters' names, but thankfully not mentioning it. "But money's not the problem. As a DMLE protection detail, I have some discretionary funds anyway. Unfortunately, however an apartment just won't do."

"Why not? I mean, it's not like we need much space. I mean, it'd be nice if there's a park nearby for Harry to play in, but…"

"Merlin, Black, you have a brain, right?" Bones exclaimed, exasperated. "Why don't you just bloody use it?"

Sirius just looked at her in astonishment. This was the angriest he'd seen her yet, and he didn't even know what he did.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't give a flying Centaur's arse whether you need space or not," she barked. "My job is to keep you safe, which I can't bloody do if you won't bloody listen or use one measly brain cell."

Sirius just gaped at her.

"Safe," she said, slowly, annunciating the word carefully. "S-A-F-E. As in, not running off to Diagon Alley and nearly getting you and the Boy-Who-Bloody-Well-Lived killed."

Sirius looked down. He couldn't really put up an objection to that. Bones was right to be angry at him, and, to be honest, he really wasn't good enough to take care of Harry.

Bones wasn't finished, however. "So, I don't bloody _care_ if you're 'comfortable' in an apartment. We need somewhere I can put up some real wards, permanent property somewhere, not a bloody apartment. Which is probably going to cost a whole lot more than my discretionary funds."

Bones' face, which, while she had been chewing him out, had been the most animated Sirius had yet seen it, abruptly returned to the stone mask which he was more used to seeing. "In any case," she continued, more softly and in control of herself once more, "it's like Scrimgeour said. I can't take the risks I might have been willing to if I was just protecting you. Now, I have to look out for the Boy-Who-Lived himself, and Merlin help me if I know how."

Sirius thought that the last sentence she uttered probably wasn't directed at him, which was good, for he had no idea how to respond. Bones looked at him sternly for another moment, before grabbing him and Apparating.

"_Merlin!_" Sirius shouted. "Not again." For a miracle, Harry didn't start crying, though whether that was because he was used to Side-Along Apparition – he had done it to get to Diagon Alley in the first place, after all—because he was still in shock from the events of the day (Merlin knew Sirius was), or because Harry was just naturally a stoic kid, Sirius didn't know.

Bones ignored his shout of displeasure at being Side-Along Apparated again, instead walking to a corner of her flat, where a cage sat that Sirius had not noticed earlier. She gently cooed to her owl as she walked the owl to the countertop.

The scribbling of quill on parchment was all that Sirius heard in the apartment for the next few minutes, as he let Bones write something, and kept his silence. He was still thinking about the encounter earlier today. Bones had been right. He had been bloody stupid, and had nearly let Harry get cursed. In fact, he had let Harry get cursed, even if it had ended up being harmless. If something had happened to Harry…

"Pa'foot sad?" Harry asked, peering up at him.

Sirius couldn't help but smile back at his godson. "A little, Harry. But with you around, I can't be for long."

Harry grinned up at him, and Sirius was taken aback by how much Harry's smile looked like James, even though he was only a year and a half old and, if he was being perfectly honest, didn't really look too much like James yet at all. But with that smile, Sirius was sure that Prongs Jr. would be the spitting image of his father.

For the first time in over a month, Sirius had managed to think of James without breaking down. Well, that was progress, he supposed.

* * *

Amelia Bones finished the last touches of her quick note, and glanced it over thoughtfully. That should do for now, she supposed. She didn't like the idea of playing the political game this way, but as things were turning out, she didn't really have a choice.

_Emily Catlan, Wizengamot Administrative Services,_ she wrote on the envelope, before stuffing her letter in it and giving it to her owl, Edgar.

Hopefully that would work. The Wizengamot, though technically just the high court of the Wizarding World, had more influence than the job description suggested. It was a court made up of all the most important people in Wizarding society, after all. Specifically for her purposes, the Wizengamot had access to a large amount of money, which they used for various purpose. And she had no doubt that Emily would be willing to let her use that to help protect Harry Potter.

And Emily even had the authority to do so, since the Wizengamot Administrative Services had, among other things, the authority to release funds to support orphans of their members, such as James Potter, as it happened. Of course, although it _was_ strictly legally, it wasn't really following the spirit of the law. But Emily Catlan had never been much for rules and regulations, which probably had been part of the reason she and Harold had gotten into trouble so often back at Hogwarts.

She glanced over to the kitchen table, where the young boy in question was playing with his godfather, who was looking down at him in turn with a smile on his face.

She shook her head, feeling even guiltier about the next letter she was about to right. In her letter to Emily, she had told the truth – that she was pretty sure Black was innocent, and that she was worried about the safety of the Boy-Who-Lived.

When she had been speaking to Scrimgeour earlier, on the other hand, she had not even considering telling him that. Scrimgeour had warned her to "watch out for Black, Bones. I assume you're monitoring him around the boy?" Amelia, feeling slightly guilty and also a little relieved that Scrimgeour didn't realize that leaving Black alone with Harry was what had caused the mess in the first place, had just nodded and said, "Of course, sir."

And, to be honest, she was. Oh, she wasn't watching Black to make sure he didn't hurt Harry – Amelia was quite sure by now that she wouldn't have to worry about that. No, she was watching Black around Harry to make sure he didn't do another idiotic move like taking Harry to visit the Ministry or something equally stupid. But Amelia hadn't expressed that to Scrimgeour, she had just let him assume that she was protecting the Boy-Who-Lived from the Death Eater who had become his guardian.

And now, with the letter she was writing to Underwood…

_To: Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

_Mister Underwood,_

_As I am sure you have already heard from one of the Aurors deployed to Diagon Alley this morning, there was a confrontation between my charge, Sirius Black, and a Death Eater at-large, Rodolphus Lestrange. Lestrange is now in Ministry custody, and Black and his godson are unharmed._

_However, this incident emphasizes several concerns I have, and I'd like to relay them to you. Firstly, I now have the Boy-Who-lived under my protection. As I'm sure you're aware, his safety is far from assured, and the fact that his godfather and guardian is Sirius Black does not help the situation. I do not believe Black will harm him, but I cannot be sure._

_Just as importantly, there was a reporter from the _Prophet_ on the scene. I am sure that the word will spread within the next day that Sirius Black has Harry Potter in his guardianship, and that they were involved in a confrontation with a Death Eater in Diagon Alley._

_This poses a threat to Mr. Potter, both due to the threat from Death Eaters and due to the increased attention he will get from the rest of the Wizarding World._

_Therefore, I would like to request several people from the Department to serve as part of a protective detail with me. I realize Minister Fudge only assigned me two Hit Wizards for the job, but I believe that circumstances have changed, due to the addition of the Boy-Who-Lived into the situation. Therefore I request that Mr. Potter's protective detail be increased to five, including me._

_With that in mind, I would like to request Aurors Dawlish and Williamson, and Hit Wizards Grenhill and Fuller to join the protective detail. I understand that having Aurors on a protective detail led by a Hit Wizard is not normal practice, but under the circumstances, I believe it is appropriate._

_Very Respectfully,_

_Hit Witch Amelia Bones_

Her mouth twisted with distaste as she re-read the second paragraph. She hadn't actually lied at all, just twisted the truth a bit, and omitted some important facts. She did in fact not believe that Black would harm Harry Potter, _and _she couldn't be sure of that belief. But she had certainly not mentioned the fact that she did not think that Black had any connections to the Death Eaters, or that she thought that he was entirely innocent.

Amelia didn't know how Underwood would react to a statement like that. She was, however, quite sure that a message such as was implied by her letter would certainly make him stand up and take notice. And that would probably get her the resources she needed to protect him, and more importantly his godson.

Truth be told, Bones wasn't doing such a good job of that herself. Oh, sure, she'd been complemented by a bunch of people, including a well-respected Auror. Ever since that incident three years earlier, none of the Aurors had really wanted anything to do with her, and now the Aurors respected her? But the truth was, she had failed in her duty. Her job was not to take down Death Eaters, even if she had done that pretty successfully. She had forgotten her real job, too eager to prove herself and take down a Death Eater.

Sure, she had beaten Lestrange in that duel. But if she didn't have a reason to. All she should have done was to delay Lestrange, let Black get out of there and hold Lestrange in place until the Aurors arrived. Or, even if she hadn't done that, she could have struck before Lestrange started his curse. Her penchant for waiting for the _perfect_ shot, the _perfect_ position, was coming back to haunt her. There _was_ a reason she had ended up a Hit Witch, not an Auror, after all.

Her job was to protect Black, and Harry Potter. That was it. If Black hadn't reacted quickly enough, or if the Healers hadn't arrived in time, she would have failed at her job. And that was something she did not tolerate. She wouldn't let it happen again. Not with the Boy-Who-Lived under her protection.

Bones shook her head once more, astonished by the weight of it all. _Merlin, I'm in charge of protecting the Boy-Who-Lived himself. To think, a few days ago I was worrying about my career progression!_

* * *

Adrian Greentree looked across the desk nervously. Three photographs were sitting on the desk, a desk which happened to belong to the Editor-in-Chief of the _Daily Prophet_, Barnabus Cuffe.

"Do you like them, sir?"

He flinched back slightly at the look in Mr. Cuffe's eyes and the slightly manic smile on his lips.

"Yes, I like them. In fact, I like them very much."

Adrian smiled tentatively. That was good, he thought, right?

Mr. Cuffe continued, partly to himself, "Yes, this will return the _Daily Prophet_ to its rightful place in the Wizarding world, if nothing else will."

"Sir?" asked Adrian, cautiously.

"Oh, yes. In fact, I like these photographs so much, that if you get more like them, I will pay you 100 Galleons for each. In fact, take this."

Adrian gaped as he saw a handful of gleaming gold coins appear in front of him, pushed by Mr. Cuffe's hand. "Thank you sir!"

"No, thank you, my boy."

Mr. Cuffe waved his hands dismissively, and Adrian ran out of the office as quickly as he could. It may not have been what he, or anyone else was expecting of the Charms prodigy fresh out of Hogwarts. In fact, Adrian was sure that old Professor Slughorn would have a conniption if he saw his protégé now. But clutching a handful of gold to his chest, and grinning at the fact that his pictures would be seen by all the Wizarding world pretty soon, he was sure, Adrian knew that his gamble had paid off. _Take that, mum,_ he yelled triumphantly in his head, _I did make it as a photographer, I told you I would!_

* * *

Barnabus smiled as the young man ran out of the room, grinning. Oh, he remembered when he was that young, when approval from his bosses at the paper was all to him. Well, now it was the fate of the paper that meant everything to him, and he'd better get about making the _Daily Prophet's_ future strong.

Barnabus briefly considered calling one of his writers up to his office. Betty Braithwhite was a good writer, and she had done a good job with the piece about Black's trial, even if she hadn't been attributed with it.

But, no, that just wouldn't do. Not on the story of the century. Barnabus glanced at the three photographs in front of him, and began to write.


End file.
